


Flowers of Eden

by PotatoPIerrot



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M, Sunlit Garden AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoPIerrot/pseuds/PotatoPIerrot
Summary: They were children born of a mixed set of parents: one human, one ghoul. Raised and trained in the Sunlit Garden, they possessed strength that far surpassed that of normal people, as well as a lifespan that's significantly shorter. Vibrant flowers that bloomed quick and wilted even quicker, if you must.And among them were a certain half-ghoul and his half-human best friend; one who wanted freedom, and one who wanted to spark a revolution.*contains slightly heavy themes





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyy it's been a while since i posted an actual fic here _(:D for those who's followed me since my IFY days, we meet again! and for those who's just reading my stuff for the first time, please feel free to check out some of my other works if you like this! :D 
> 
> ~~please check em out im desperate for attention---~~
> 
> ANYWAYS,this is written based on [this set of HCs](http://gastricpierrot.tumblr.com/post/147892768758/guys-guys-hear-me-out-but-sunlight-garden-au%20on%20tumblr) i posted on tumblr. Happy reading!

His earliest memory of them involves a certain incident with strawberry milk.

They were four then? Five? He doesn’t quite remember. He’s never been much good at judging time and it’s not like being cooped up within a walled and gated compound helps a lot. At any rate, it doesn’t matter. Back  to his narration.

Nagachika Hideyoshi is raised in an orphanage dubbed as the Sunlit Garden. No one’s really able to answer him why it’s called that for years. Had it been named on a whim? Maybe the director was feeling poetic? Or is it simply named based on the spot in the place which gets the most sun during the day and that’s the garden? Hide could spend hours and hours coming up with conspiracy theories for that itself, but not even his best friend is willing to humour him on that for _that_ long, so he grudgingly doesn’t.

Speaking of best friend, Hide should introduce his. His best friend is a guy by the name of Kaneki Ken; a shy, quiet kid who sometimes offers the sweetest, most earnest smiles he’s ever seen. They’re the same age, as are the rest of the kids in their dormitory. Hide has always found it strange; how systematic the difference in ages between the orphans of each dormitory are. Hide and Kaneki are ten now. The dorm above them houses kids exactly three years older, and the one above _them_ are another three years older. The ones below them are younger by two years. Those in Hide’s age group are the second youngest thus far. Those older than eighteen had left and never came back, with a few exceptions.

Anyway, strawberry milk. Right.

Strawberry milk was a luxury in the Garden. Their everyday meals always only consisted of stuff that’s supposed to make them grow up strong and healthy, and even though Hide has to admit they don’t taste too bad, it got bland real fast with them rotating between five to six variations a week. Sometimes when their tutors and trainers were feeling generous, they would reward their achievements with snacks like chips or chocolate or—in a rare case once—cup noodles. Still, strawberry milk was arguably the most popular, and it’s not because it’s something that doesn’t begin with ‘c’. Just thinking about it makes Hide want to find out who’s idea it was to let them try strawberry milk so he could shake hands with them for making such a great life decision.

It all started one unannounced morning. They were all standing in line for breakfast according to dorms, their teeth cleaned and hair brushed and clothes straightened. There were around thirty of them in total, all displaying varying intensities of drowsiness depending on the amount of discipline and fear they had towards the person in charge of overseeing them for the morning. Hide had been smack in the middle of the queue then, so he hadn’t been able to process the turn of events right away when whispers suddenly erupted around him and orphans began jostling one another and pointing to the front. One shush was all it took to quiet them down, however, and Hide was forced to wait minutes after excruciating minutes in bursting curiosity before he’s finally at the front, a rectangular packet about the size of his hand thrust towards him in a silent prompt for him to take it.

And Hide had taken it. And he’d walked off to a corner, clutching it to his chest like he’s just been handed some kind of priceless treasure. “Strawberry milk,” he read off the label once he’s huddled against the wall, his cheeks flushed with a sort of excitement he can’t quite explain even until now. Perhaps new, unusual things tend to bring this sort of effect when you’re brought up the way he was.

Hide had just finished inspecting the cute pink print on the packet and attempted to read all the small numbers and words when he heard a cry. His attention snapped up, instantly focusing on a boy at the table not too far away from him who’d started to sob pitifully. There’s a patch of pink liquid on the spot on the table before him.

Now it’s the events that transpired after this that struck Hide as odd only much, much later. The child next to the boy who was apparently the culprit for spilling his milk spent around half a minute begging him to quiet down, their own face pale as paper. Then as Hide watched on, one of their caretakers stepped into the scene, and literally dragged the then also weeping child away and into the corridors where his voice died into an eerie, abrupt silence once the door closed.

Everyone acted as though nothing happened, as though one of their own hadn’t just been taken to some kind of disciplining that might make him return a different person. But well, it was _almost_ everyone, anyways. There was the victim of the incident, trying his best to stifle his sniffles and dry his eyes before he too, was taken away. That’s the thing about the Garden: tears and mistakes weren’t exactly highly tolerated, and the rule only gets stricter and stricter as they grow older. Which was why Hide (and a majority of the other kids, really) had gradually learnt to stick to himself most of the time. You can’t exactly seriously mess up and be sad when you’re alone.

And then there was the boy Hide knew as Kaneki Ken just a bit later, his first and closest friend for years and years to come. Kaneki had never stood out to Hide until then; they went through the same classes, the same training regimens and the same processes of being pricked by needles once a week. He was just like them; a child born under special circumstances and nothing more.

Or at least that’s what Hide thought so at first.

Kaneki had been the only person to approach the crying boy once their caretakers had their back turned, whispering words Hide could not make out before pressing his unopened packet of milk into his hands and hurrying off. Perhaps it’s this act of unexpected boldness on Kaneki’s part that caught his attention. Perhaps it’s the fact that he was actually willing to give up something as great and rare and awesome as strawberry milk for the sake of cheering up another person that earned his respect. Hide still can’t really be sure. All he’s certain of is that the next thing he knew, he was getting on his feet to catch up to the other boy and offering to share his packet of milk with him in honour of his sacrifice.

They… just kinda stuck together after that, he supposes. They began sitting together during classes and meals and hung out with each other during whatever free time they had. Hide’s pretty sure he might even have tried persuading either his or Kaneki’s roommate for a switch so they could spend more time with each other if they weren’t monitored so tightly. Then again, they were given the privilege for an optional shuffle every new year, so Hide had his chance soon enough. It took them exactly four months to have their names form a pair. Nagachika and Kaneki. Wherever one was, the other would usually be there too.

Fast forward several years to the future where Hide is now. He exhales a slow breath as he does his stretches, his muscles burning slightly as he strains on them. Combat training is something the Garden kids are all thrown into the moment they reach six years old, the age Hide had discovered where other children outside their orphanage would usually begin attending ‘elementary school’. They were made to run daily even before that, whether on treadmills or around the orphanage compound within the walls. It didn’t take long for him to realize that that’d been the earliest form of physical training they’d partaken in, and it took even less time for him to begin secretly loathing the regimen set for them. He’s seen his peers do everything they can to maintain their composure until they’re out of sight before collapsing into an exhausted heap or even throwing up from the harshness of the activities they had to go through. Hide himself had had to skip meals too many times already because he’d pushed his body to the point where the littlest movement made his head spin and stomach churn and all he wanted was to lie down forever.

Hide takes his position at the centre of the gym section they’re occupying for the day once he’s done warming up, pushing his thoughts away to focus. They’re sparring today as part of their training, and Hide’s opponent is one of the older orphans. He silently assesses the guy as he waits for him to get ready; noting his dominant hand, the slight favour he puts to his left foot, his sturdy stature that probably grants him a firm sense of balance. He isn’t someone who’s going to be easily toppled, but hey, Hide _did_ earn the title of being one of the best among his group by achieving near-impossible stuff. He’s got a reputation to keep.

With that motivational thought, Hide launches himself into battle; using a minute on being defensive to have a better idea of how the other boy moves so he can plan a proper comeback. Still, he could tell that the guy’s being wary as well and that he’s holding back from showing him anything more than the basics. Hide almost heaves an internal sigh. Experience sure is an unfair advantage.

He takes a sharp breath, and abruptly switches to offense. He uses his opponent’s second of hesitation to press him hard, always aiming for the few vulnerable spots he’s managed to pick out so far. The other boy blocks his attacks well, but Hide subtly notices how he’s often barely quick enough to match his speed. Hide’s breathing doesn’t even falter when he feints a strike towards his chest, his other hand going straight for his throat the moment he sees him moving to block and—

And then Hide’s falling face first towards the ground, hardly even registering the impact across his entire body—and particularly, _face_ —past his stupefied incomprehension. Wait. _What_. What the heck happened? He tries to recall the flow of events that’d taken place as he slowly pushes himself off the ground, blinking the spots from his eyes. One second he was going for the finishing move, one second he was so certain that it’s his victory once again. And then…

His left leg seems to hurt more than the rest of his body and _ah_ , it makes sense now. The guy tripped him. He saw his chance when Hide was too focused on winning that he’d let his guard down and tripped him to the ground. He used the very same move Hide had considered using on him.

“You okay?”

The older boy enters Hide’s field of vision when he looks up, his hand outstretched. Hide runs his own hand over his face, wincing involuntarily when he touches his nose and feels a jab of pain through his entire head. His fingers touch sticky wetness when they brush below his nostrils.

“I don’t think anything’s broken, so I guess?” Hide grimaces before accepting his help and getting on his feet. “I should probably do something about this, though,” he adds, gesturing to the blood now running down his face in a steady stream. The older boy only nods, making no further comments and turning to go on his way. Hide tilts his head upwards, and tries his best to navigate towards the infirmary. He really hopes that fall hadn’t broken his nose. It’d be a huge bother if it did, ugh.

“Hide, are you alright? You fell pretty hard back there.”

Hide stops in his tracks when he hears the voice, soon peering down upon a familiar head of tidy, black hair. You’d think he’d be more embarrassed about his absolute defeat, but he’s rather proud to say his record definitely had more losses than wins so far. And Kaneki has bore witness to at least ninety percent of those losses, so it’s not exactly something that impresses him anymore at this point.

“I think my pride took an even harder fall back there, to be honest,” Hide jokes, cringing slightly when he tastes blood in his mouth. “But I’ll be fine, Kaneki, don’t worry about it.” A short pause. “Wait, when’s your turn?”

“It’s already over,” is all Kaneki says. He circles his fingers loosely around Hide’s arm, and starts leading him towards his destination. With his head tilted, Hide can’t see his expression.

“How did it go..?” Hide asks, almost tentatively. Not that he doesn’t already know how it went.

“It was barely a competition,” Kaneki answers, his tone matter-of-fact and void of any frustration. He just sounds tired. So, so tired.

Hide’s tempted to risk a waterfall of blood down his face to look at him properly, but he’s saved from doing that when he realizes they’ve reached the infirmary. Kaneki insists for him to lie down while he gets him a wet cloth and some ice for his nose, and Hide doesn’t argue. His head has actually started spinning from his fall and weird position for the past two minutes and he’s worried he might actually get vertigo if he doesn’t lie down a bit. So much for a tough Garden kid, hah.

“Does it hurt again?”

It’s Hide who poses the question once they’ve both settled down, his voice quiet. He finally gets to see Kaneki properly, and  he reaches to loosely tangle his fingers with his. Kaneki’s eyes are averted, his free hand fiddling his chin slightly.

“It’s not so bad this time,” Kaneki says with a reassuring smile, and Hide would have believed him too if he hadn’t known him so well that he’s picked up his habits and quirks over the years.

Kaneki’s… different from the rest of them. “Special” is the word the guys in lab coats would always tell them. They’re officially registered as ‘orphans’, but they’re taught the moment they could understand the meaning of words about who and what they really are. Children who are not really human. Children who have a parent, either their father or mother, who can’t eat anything but human meat to survive.

They’re called “ghouls”, these cannibalistic beings. And they’re often reminded that they’re the baddest guys around, the main threat to the human population. However, what makes less and less sense as Hide grows older is why they, children of ghouls, exist when ghouls are supposed to be hated and hunted down to extinction before they wipe out the human population. Aren’t they kind of contradicting their own aims by raising the young of a species they’re supposed to eliminate?

The children of the Garden are all “half-breeds”, born from a human-ghoul pair of anonymous parents with the help of science. They do not possess the main characteristics of ghouls; the superhuman regenerating abilities, the flaring red irises and darkened eye-whites which are also known as “kakugan”, and the special organ to store and manifest RC cells into appendages that could be shaped at the will of a ghoul, known as the “kakuhou” and “kagune” respectively. As such, they’re allowed to keep the title of being “humans”, but only half so. They’re an in-between existence. Half-humans.

Well, at least most of them who actually manage to live past the exiting the womb or whatever machine used to cultivate them are. The fact that they have the chance to utter their first cry as a newborn is rare enough. But there’s a case that’s even rarer, that’s only occurred a grand total of two times ever since the Garden was founded approximately thirty years ago.

Half-breed children born with the characteristics of a ghoul, yet retain the ability to gain nutrients from human food—half-ghouls. Perhaps in a genetic sense, they can be said to have the better deal; a more balanced mix of both species. Realistically, it could very well be a curse. After all, why would the other half-ghoul—a girl some years older than them—have done everything she did to escape the Garden walls just a few years back? Surely, something must’ve motivated her to do so. Surely, there’s something she couldn’t have been able to stand in here that finally pushed her to leave the confines of their “orphanage”.

It doesn’t take long for Hide to gain a suspicion over what that “something” is, being so close to Kaneki. That’s right, Kaneki’s the second half-ghoul to ever exist in the Garden, and currently the only one left.

“Kaneki,” Hide says, catching his companion’s gaze and silently willing him to not look away. “It’s just me you’re with. You don’t have to lie, you know.”

For a moment, Kaneki seems like he’s about to make another denial. Then slowly, he nods without a word, letting his shoulders slump further with the tiredness he’s been holding back. Hide feels something in his heart darken with a deep, seething rage and loathing. Being the only rare existence left, Kaneki’s called to the labs more frequently than the rest of them; going through procedures that more often than not leave him exhausted and in pain all over. Sometimes it’s so bad that Kaneki can barely push himself out of bed in the mornings, whimpering at any movement that sends jolts of pain across his body. Hide can only imagine how much he’s enduring, to actually fail in masking the agony he’s in when he’s gotten so good at it over the years.

“Stay here with me a little longer?” Hide suggests, giving Kaneki’s fingers a slight squeeze. Kaneki graces him with a lopsided, but grateful smile.

“Is your nosebleed _that_ bad?” he asks even though Hide’s pretty sure he knows the blood flow has long since stopped. That’s the thing about being a half-human; their bodies might not recover from injuries as immediately as a ghouls, but they still recover pretty darn fast.

“Bad enough for me to have to lie down longer than I have to,” Hide says, wiggling his eyebrows in mischief. His smile widens when Kaneki lets out a small laugh.

“They won’t let you slack off for long,” he warns, but makes no more moves to leave than Hide. He exhales a long breath, leaning forward to lean his head onto the mattress in a rather awkward position. Hide tries to scoot over so he can join him, but Kaneki dismisses him with the reason that at least like this he’ll be able to react before they get caught. Hide, sadly, can’t argue. The Garden isn’t too sympathetic towards those who miss training.

But looking at it another way, isn’t what they’re doing quite counterproductive? Hide’s mind wanders as it always does when he’s physically idle. What’s the point of pushing them so hard every single day to the extent that most of them are breaking apart by the end of it—and _then_ strain them with another brutal training menu the next day when they barely have the strength to get out of bed? Even if they are bound to be great fighters, to be the strongest weapons mankind has ever had against ghouls—is there a need for all this?

…Even if they’re just tools, is there a need to treat them like this?

**xXx**

Kaneki always looks forward to Arima’s visits.

He always manages to bring an array of random things with him whenever he drops by; candies, smooth stones, leaves they’ve never seen before, toys no one really knows how to play. And just recently, books. Books that are never allowed in the Garden; ones about freedom, justice, deceit. Books on revolutions.

Arima Kishou is eight years older than Kaneki, and the youngest ever to have left the Garden for the outside world. Kaneki has never bothered to ask the older boy directly because he doesn’t think it matters anyway, but he’s heard that Arima left when he’s barely sixteen. He’d even skipped the year the children from the Garden would usually spend in the CCG’s academy, being assigned into field work straight out. Kaneki isn’t surprised. He doesn’t need rumours to know that Arima’s the strongest half-human to date, and that he’s on the way to being the strongest ghoul investigator of their time. The fact that their trainers always attempt to motivate/threaten them using his name should be enough to prove it.

Kaneki has mixed feelings towards Arima. He respects him, that’s for sure. _Admires_ , even. He’s awed by him, always taken aback by the small acts of gentleness he sometimes displays. He’s grateful for the books he’s smuggled in for him, all of them stashed away from sight under his bed and read almost to pieces. Strongest investigator or not, Kaneki knows Arima doesn’t completely live up to the expectations of how someone with such prestige should be. Though his range of expressions isn’t all that wide, he has a slight, but kind smile. He has a surprisingly rebellious streak, often sneaking in items with him as gifts to the other children during his visits despite being aware of the strict restrictions imposed upon matters they are allowed to be expose to. He’s sometimes comically awkward. The younger kids adore him.

And perhaps it’s because Kaneki has seen these sides of him that he also somehow feels pity for him whenever he sees him now. The increasing number of white strands in his hair are stark against his original dark blue. The look in his eyes has grown even more faraway, and though it’s not obvious, Hide has pointed out how he seems to carrier a heavier, more tired air around him now. It’s as though something’s constantly weighing him down lately, Hide had observed.

 “How is work like out there..?”

The question is asked tentatively, with Kaneki half hoping that Arima will just brush him off. He’s never dared and wanted to know until then—he wonders what made him suddenly blurt that out. He averts his gaze when Arima’s eyes flicker towards him from the novel he’s reading, unable to maintain eye contact. Arima’s silent for a long while, as though quietly contemplating what he should say and how he should say them. Two seconds in and Kaneki’s already regretting some life choices. He stares at the cover of Arima’s book as he waits, scarcely even daring to breathe for some reason. He’s reading one of Franz Kafka’s works today, he muses half-heartedly to himself.

“I—“

Arima’s finally about to say something when he’s interrupted by Hide walking into their conversation. Kaneki can’t decide whether to feel miffed or disappointed or relieved. Maybe it’s for the best that he remains ignorant for now?

“What are you guys talking about?” Hide asks as he shifts on his spot to cross his legs, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. Kaneki’s attention is drawn to the multiple bruises that decorate his bared skin, all already fading despite Hide gaining them just the day before.

“Ken’s just asking me how work’s like,” Arima replies evenly, and Kaneki flinches. Is he really going to tell them?

“It’s probably tough as hell, isn’t it?” Hide says almost offhandedly, balancing his elbow on the side of his knee and resting his chin on his palm. That’s what it would seem like on the surface, but Kaneki manages to detect the thoughtful undertone in his voice. That’s just how Hide is, no matter what kind of image of himself he usually tries to project in front of others. He’s always thinking, questioning, analysing.

It’s dangerous, to have such strong independent thoughts in the Garden. That’s why Hide chooses to mask them with his everyday façade—it wouldn’t end well for him if he raises suspicion upon himself for having enough self will to resist the Garden’s ideals. Even Kaneki is aware of this much.

“Well, it’s certainly not _easy_ ,” Arima responds, but offering no further elaboration. Kaneki finally exhales the breath he’s been holding. It was a stupid idea for him to have asked about this in the first place—not to mention a rather insensitive one. Arima-san’s here for a break and here he is, making him think of the burdens he has to carry.

He notices how close Hide is to blurting more questions, and quickly scrambles for a different topic of conversation. “B-By the way, Arima-san!”

Arima regards him, head tilted slightly to the side. Kaneki’s cheeks burn. His voice had came out squeakier than he’d intended. That doesn’t matter.

“I just finished reading the anthology you gave me the other day a-and,” Kaneki swallows, his sudden boldness making him stumble over his words, “I’d love to talk to you about them, if that’s okay.”

Arima’s quiet for a moment. “Was it Hakushuu’s The Seal and the Cloud?”

“Yes.” Kaneki’s heart beats just a little faster with excitement. He’s always loved reading, loved how words alone are able to bring him to an entirely new world besides giving him a fuzzy feeling in his chest and at times even taking his breath away with their beauty and the plot’s intensity and making him forget about the almost constant ache that plagues his body. It’s a passion that sparked within him since they were made to read some literary works in class, and it’s only been growing ever since Arima smuggled in more books and a dictionary into the Garden.

Huh. Now that he thinks of it, how _did_ he find out about his love for books? Was it simply some good guessing on his part? Maybe it’s a coincidence? Or did he hear about it from someone?

“I thought Ode to an Old Ainu was pretty interesting,” Arima says and oh _gosh_ it really is happening they’re going to talk about books now. Kaneki takes in a breath, ready to blabber on about how much he agrees that the poem is great and how one may interpret it so, so many ways and how much of a literary genius Hakushuu truly is when Hide decides to heave a deep, loud sigh. Ah, he’s never been a fan of Kaneki’s boring stuff written by pretentious old people, he’d always say. Kaneki nods apologetically when he catches his eyes, but Hide only shakes his head subtly, encouraging him to go on.

Still, Kaneki feels bad for leaving him out of the conversation like this. Hide remains without comment, only bringing his knees to his chest and leaning forward to use them as a makeshift pillow before closing his eyes—perhaps intending to reassure him further that it’s okay for him to just do his thing, he’ll be there if he needs him. Very reluctantly, Kaneki lets himself indulge.

He talks with Arima about Hakushuu for what seems to be hours and hours; relentlessly exchanging insights and theories and opinions. And as silent as he is on every other day, Arima turns out to be a great conversational partner when it comes to talking about books; having an excellent memory and sharp observational skills to notice details even Kaneki sometimes missed out. It’s easy to forget about Arima’s rising status as a ghoul investigator and see him as just another orphan from the Garden when they’re like this. Kaneki hopes it’s the same for Arima as well, that he can just be himself without bearing the weight of a genius right then where none of his talents in combat matters. If anyone deserves this little bit of peace, it’s him.

“It’s different,” Arima comments at one point, so out of the blue that Kaneki fails to follow. “The world described in his poems and the world outside right now,” Arima adds shortly, absently watching his own finger as he draws circles  on the floor by his foot, “they’re very different.”

“In what way?” Kaneki shifts, longing to stretch his stiff legs but worried that he might seem rude to do so when there’s already not much space between them to begin with. From the corner of his eye, he notices that Hide’s awake now, listening to them in silence.

“It’s—“ Arima’s cut off by a call of his name from one of the instructors. Their tone was wholly professional and lacking a certain warmth—the default voice used for most of them, really, but Kaneki can’t help but feel it’s even more so in Arima’s case. Maybe it’s just him thinking too deep into things, he doesn’t know. Also, would people please stop interrupting the poor guy already, geez.

Arima moves to get on his feet without a word, the two younger boys soon following suit. Arima’s expression remains unchanged, but Kaneki seems to hear a tinge of wistfulness in his tone when he bids them farewell.

“Thank you so much for today, Arima-san,” Kaneki manages to tell him before he could walk off, bending forward in a slight bow. He catches a glimpse of one of his rare, small smiles when he straightens. “See you soon.”

He doesn’t get to watch him go; Hide’s tugging his hand to remind him about the next class they have to attend before he has the chance.

**xXx**

Their days eventually begin passing in a new sort of monotone.

Their physical training gets replaced by weapons training immediately after they turn thirteen, each of them assigned a type of weapon to master based on past assessments of them before they’re allowed to choose their second choices. Hide’s advantages lean towards his speed and wit for ending battles quickly, so he’s made to train with short weapons for easy manoeuvrability and quick, precise strikes. Kaneki, who excels in learning new moves and techniques by simply observing and generally an all rounder with a sturdy core as long as his pain isn’t too prominent, is assigned to handle standard length weapons like swords.

Hide has to admit though: training with weapons is much more interesting than what they were used to. Perhaps it’s because he’s suffered way too many losses during his hand-to-hand combat days and sees better chances in something that can properly end a battle with a nudge of wood against certain spots of a body. Perhaps he’s attracted to the rush of adrenaline that comes with the sudden spike of urgency knowing a defeat in training would might mean death if it were a real fight. Perhaps he’s just happy to take it as a sign of him growing up and growing stronger.

He _has_ to grow up and grow stronger.

Kaneki’s uniqueness as a half-ghoul has gotten even more distinct recently. He now receives a special menu during meal times—and by ‘special’ Hide means an extra bowl of gooey red stuff that _reeks_ of iron but apparently smells just like chicken soup to Kaneki. He’s starting to train with his kagune as well besides mastering how to swing a weapon effectively. All on top of the increasingly painful and draining procedures he has to go through.

Kaneki practices using his kagune alone during the hours where the others are free to do as they like, not just because he’s the only one with a kagune, but also because he hates standing out in front of people. Hide always keeps him company, that’s for certain. He’d sit at the sides of the practice hall and watch as Kaneki performs a succession of moves with the blood-coloured appendages that sprout from his lower back; simple ones at first, but he’s using them as if he’s been using them all his life in no time. Sometimes Hide finds goosebumps rising over his skin at the sight of Kaneki’s deft movements that incorporate using his kagune with seemingly so little effort. So this is how a ghoul fights.

Hide has been having a bad feeling since he woke up the day the incident happens. Kaneki hadn’t returned to their room at all the night before—his bed remained untouched even after Hide snapped awake from the drowse he’d eventually nodded off into as he waited. It’s not the first time something like this has happened; Hide’s been caught sneaking out to the labs _way_ past curfew to check on him so many times that he’s been punished to solitary confinement twice already. He’d keep doing it anyway if Kaneki hadn’t personally assured him that he’ll be alright and asked for him to stop getting himself in trouble and just wait for him because he’ll surely come back sooner or later. Hide doesn’t like it any more than he likes the idea of being locked in a room with nothing but white walls and a small corner for him to do his business for hours and hours without food or entertainment, but for Kaneki, he’d decided, he’ll listen to him.

Still, the nagging feeling in his gut only intensifies further when it’s past lunch time and Kaneki still hasn’t made an appearance. He’s missed an entire morning of lessons; they usually wouldn’t let him do that even when the painkillers no longer make a difference. Hide’s also suspicious of how he’s suddenly more engaged than normal, being almost constantly targeted by their tutors to either answer questions or read passages or carry materials from one class to another. The Garden is a small institution—there’s no one who shouldn’t have, to the very least, heard of the inseparable Nagachika and Kaneki. With the behavioural record he holds, he’s not surprised that he’s the one they’re wary of if anything’s happened to Kaneki.

The fact that he’s more and more certain they’re trying to distract him does little to lessen his apprehension. Maybe he should risk enduring another day in confinement and look for Kaneki to check on him and beat up anyone who’s trying to—

“Nagachika!”

Hide’s jerked out of his thoughts by the sharp call of his name. He abruptly registers the sting in his palms; his fingers uncurling with effort. He glances towards the owner of the voice, a girl his age.

“Didn’t you hear? We need to go to the labs now,” she says, tugging his arm to urge him to hurry. Hide blinks, almost stumbling over his feet when he moves.

“Why so sudden?” Hide asks, though possibilities are already beginning to cloud his thoughts, backed by the bits and pieces of information Kaneki has been able to tell him along with those he’s picked up himself during the few times he’s stumbled upon careless conversations. The girl shrugs, eyes set ahead and pace hastened to catch up with the rest of the group that’s already ahead of them.

“Don’t know. They didn’t care to elaborate.”

Hide says nothing to that, instead holding his breath as he moves to join his peers. His teeth dig into the flesh of his lower lip until they draw blood. His intuition has never really been wrong all these while. This sudden visit to the labs—he’s sure it’s connected to Kaneki’s sudden absence that day somehow. Dread settles in the pit of his stomach like a layer of tar; dense, toxic. What have they done to him? What are they _still_ doing to him?

Hide doesn’t make the turn into the usual room where he’d get his arm pricked every Saturday, his steps speeding up as he walks straight ahead despite the calls of question and warnings for him to go back. Kaneki wouldn’t be in this corridor, but Hide knows how to get to where he should be without even thinking now. He slips into the emergency stairway and climbs up, his bare feet making no sounds at all against the cement floor. He shortly emerges in an annoyingly bright hallway lined with doors and large one-way glass windows along the walls. It’s quiet—eerily so. A calm before a storm.

Hide heads forward, all thoughts of being caught forgotten and replaced only by a numb sort of static. He goes to the room at the very end of the corridor, and stops. Looks through the window.

And stares.

And _stares_.

The scene before him is like a muted nightmare, only perhaps much, much worse. Kaneki’s strapped on his belly onto an operating table, his limbs straining against their constraints as he thrashes about. His face, turned to one side for him to breathe, bears an expression of excruciating pain; his mouth open in screams that are silent to Hide’s ears, his dark hair sticking to the sides of his sweat-drenched face. The skin where he—impossibly, given the raw strength he owns—is tied down is chaffed raw and bleeding. And on his lower back...

The rush of air that suddenly enters Hide’s lungs almost chokes him. He could only watch on in complete stupefaction as Kaneki’s kagune furled and unfurled in spasmodic movements into ever-changing forms, lashing at nothing and everything. _It’s eating him_ , is the only thought that Hide’s mind seems to be able to piece together. He doesn’t know _how_ it’s possible or _why_ it’s happening but Kaneki’s kagune is going out of control and he’s in pain and he _has_ to do something he can’t just stand there and—

Hide feels hands grabbing him and roughly yanking him back and away from the glass panel the exact moment he spots a researcher enter the scene, holding an item that unmistakably resembles a gun. Hide vaguely remembers struggling, words he can’t hear leaving his mouth in shouts, in desperation. They can’t hold him down, he has to see if Kaneki is alright! He has to go to him and he’ll fight anyone who _dares_ get in his way and perhaps he goes too far at one point because the last thing he remembers before waking up from unconsciousness in a white-walled room is a sharp jab of pain piercing  his arm.

Being locked away has never bothered him as much as it does then. He’s utterly restless at first, unable to find the composure he normally holds on to so firmly. He paces, slams his fists against the door that stubbornly remains shut. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. Then when he’s finally exhausted and starving, the thoughts come; those of helplessness and despair and frustration all mixed up in an overwhelming whirlwind. He’d only stood and watched as Kaneki suffered. He hadn’t been able to do a thing.

He’s never been able to do a single thing.

They couldn’t have shot Kaneki dead, Hide’s at least certain of that. He’s still got too many uses for them to be disposed of so early. The ammunition for that handgun was probably some kind of sedative, maybe even some concentrated form of the RC suppressants they learnt about in class.

Kaneki often warned him that he thinks too much (which, he begs to differ because he’s pretty sure he’s doing it to a decent, healthy extent) and perhaps it’s become obvious without him realizing despite his efforts trying not to let it show. After all, why else would it feel like they’re lengthening his isolation if it’s not to show him that he’s not the one in power here and that he can spend an eternity pondering over how he can help his closest friend in the world and _still_ remain unable to change a thing?

The realization of having his weaknesses used against him gives Hide the resolution to refrain from showing any more signs of an external breakdown, but with his parched throat and hunger combined with his unfading concern towards Kaneki’s current wellbeing, it still feels like there’s a thorn stuck in his gut . Hide lies flat on his back on the cold, marble floor, his closed eyes doing little to block out the intense white lighting around him. He tries again and again and _again_ to distract himself, to uncharacteristically stop thinking for just a second, a minute. He can’t show them he’s lost. He can’t show them he’s completely disobedient either; he can’t risk being monitored any more than he already is.

The plan taking root in his head would be harder to be put into motion otherwise.

**xXx**

Kaneki wakes to a badly aching head and an unusually numb body.

It’s dark. He doesn’t recognize the ceiling above him. He takes a breath, exhaling slowly. It’s... actually quite nice like this. He’s forgotten how it is to not feel like his muscles are constantly being roasted over a slow flame.

His memories begin creeping back in patches. The metal capsule that’s filled with some sort of liquid, the mask over his face, the contraptions that fit over his lower back for ‘harvesting’ purposes. The pain. The iron cuffs cutting into his wrist and ankles, the syringe of greenish chemical injected into his bloodstream. The feeling of his kagune tearing into his flesh. More pain. Much, much more pain.

He begins to wonder if the numbness right then is actually artificially induced or if it’s just his body being utterly exhausted from the amount of pain it had to endure. Either way, he’s not looking forward to when it all wears off.

Kaneki’s attention flickers to the place where he’d spotted a shadow move. He closes his eyes once more, hoping that the person will leave him be if they see him still asleep. It’s strange, though. He doesn’t remember the researchers’ footsteps being this silent; their shoes usually make sure they can be heard through an entire empty hallway.

“Kaneki.”

Kaneki’s heart skips a beat, his eyelids snapping open to see Hide standing over him, the shadowed expression of worry on his face matching the tone of his voice. Seeing him awake, Hide breaks into a smile of relief, and Kaneki feels a sting in his chest. He wants to apologize, wants to reach out and take his hand and assure him that he’s okay and that he doesn’t need to look like he’s almost _lost_ him because he hasn’t, not this time as well—but he can barely move a finger, let alone do anything beyond that level.

“Hide.” His voice comes out hoarse from his dry throat. In response, Hide disappears from view, reappearing half a minute later to dribble some water between his lips. Kaneki swallows gratefully, the squeeze in his heart growing in intensity at the care and gentleness in the way Hide treats him. What has he done to deserve someone like him?

“Better?” Hide asks once he’s presumably ran out of water to feed him, reaching to brush some strands of his hair away from his eyes. Kaneki nods, the ache in his head gradually fading to something more tolerable.

“What _happened_ to you?”

It’s Kaneki who makes the inquiry, noting Hide’s hunched shoulders and generally haggard appearance. Even in the scarce lightning Kaneki could see how his hair is more tousled that it usually is and how he seems like he hasn’t slept in days. Wait. How long has he been unconscious, then?

“Nothing new,” Hide dismisses casually, and it’s enough for Kaneki to make a guess. He’s gotten himself punished again for his sake despite all those times he’d told him to lay low, hasn’t he? A lump forms in the base of Kaneki’s throat. If Hide’s caught being here now, he might be locked up and starved and who knows what additional forms of discipline they might come up for him next and no, Hide can’t stay. No matter how much he wants him to stay, Hide _can’t_ because Kaneki doesn’t think he can bear the thought of him finally being broken by the cruelty of the Garden because of him. They can do whatever they want with him until his body rots away, but not Hide, please.

_Please._

“Kaneki?” Alarm tinges Hide’s voice. “Hey, what’s wrong? Does it hurt anywhere or—“

“Please leave, Hide,” Kaneki pleads, shakily. His palms and back feel damp. “I’ll be okay in a while, so please leave before they find out you’re here.”

“After all that trouble I took just to get here? No way,” Hide scoffs, earning himself an incredulous stare from Kaneki.

“But—“ he begins, but Hide interrupts by pressing a finger to his lips, effectively shushing him.

“I have permission this time,” he simply tells him, in a way that Kaneki is unable to decide if that’s really the truth. Hide doesn’t give him room to argue, however, by proceeding to make himself comfortable at the end of his cot. Gradually, reluctantly, Kaneki lets himself relax. It’s not like Hide would leave even if he keeps protesting—stubbornness is one of the qualities they both share, after all. But still...

“They’ve really done it this time, huh?”

The words are muttered in a muse, not directed to anyone in particular. Hide’s face, now turned away from Kaneki, is fully hidden by the shadows. There’s a ring to his voice that Kaneki hasn’t heard before.

“I think they’ve finally found a way to harvest my kakuhou,” Kaneki says, remembering the voices that swarmed around him while he was in that capsule. The procedures he’d gone through over the years were mostly about trying to extract enough bits of his kakuhou to be transferred to another person. It’s a different and more intricate process than obtaining one to make a quinque, he’s figured long ago. There have always been complications, perhaps due to the fact that he’s a natural-born half-ghoul. Something’s always bound to get in the way of a breakthrough; as if his body is consciously refusing to cooperate with the hands that persistently violate it over the years.

It’s no longer a secret why the researchers are so fixated on Kaneki’s kagune. All half-humans born in the Garden are fated to a short lifespan. Many are prone to prematurely contacting conditions an average person would not suffer from until later in life. Strong and inhuman as they are physically, they’re also ironically fragile. Disposable. Flowers that bloom quickly and wilt even quicker.

And Kaneki’s kagune has been found to hold the key to fixing that.

“Yeah, they told us that yesterday,” Hide says, in the same unreadable tone as before. He’s silent for a few seconds before he speaks again. “Say, Kaneki?”

“Hmm?”

A slightly longer pause, a moment of hesitation. Then, “on second thought, it’s nothing.” He perks up and turns to face him right after, his mood taking a sudden drastic shift. “Come to think of it, I should mention that they brought us some pudding just now. I’ve already saved some for you, by the way.”

Kaneki sees the slight jerk of his head to the side, indicating the top corner of the room where there’s a surveillance camera mounted on the wall. They can’t talk about it here, he interprets. He wonders what exactly does he want to tell him.

“I hope I’ll be back before it goes bad, though,” Kaneki plays along with hardly a falter, laughing sheepishly. Hide leans a little forward.

“It should be fine; the weather’s still cool anyways,” he says, and despite his earlier solemnity, he’s starting to revert back to his everyday self. “Also! Did you know that I finally beat that Furuta guy this morning?”

“I just woke up about fifteen minutes ago, in case you’ve forgotten,” Kaneki reminds him with another small laugh, amused by his childish excitement. “But isn’t he the one who always uses dirty tricks and never gets reprimanded?”

“For the record, he’s _still_ cheating and they’re _still_ letting him,” Hide says drily, huffing a tired sigh. “Apparently their reason is that there’s no such thing as fairness when it comes to survival or something? I had to kill him like, four times before the referee finally acknowledged my win. Talk about playing favourites, sheesh.”

“Did he try to stab your eyes again this time?” Kaneki tries to keep his tone light, but something churns deep down in his core as the words leave his mouth. He remembers now. Furuta’s known for having no qualms in causing bodily damage to others even when it’s just training, as well as being the pet of almost everyone in charge. Kaneki’s seen firsthand how differently he’s treated compared to the rest of them; the most obvious being how he alone is allowed to use unfair and harmful means when sparring while anyone else would be subjected to punishment in the form of thicker needles or reduced food portions.

“Nearly shoved his fingers up my nostrils, too,” Hide affirms, absently rubbing his nose at the memory, “and he even tried to kick me in the nads again, can you believe the guy? And _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to be famous for getting in trouble!”

“He didn’t seriously kick you, did he?” Kaneki worriedly glances towards Hide’s pelvis. He feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he looks back up and sees the triumphant grin plastered across his companion’s features.

“Speed has always been my thing, so no. But I did kick _his_ in the end.” Hide makes a fist and scrunches up his face. “Ah, the sweet, sweet taste of revenge!”

Kaneki can only imagine his sense of accomplishment. Furuta has gotten in the way of Hide’s winning streak too many times; his sparring matches with him would never end until Hide’s the one on the ground. It doesn’t help that he too, is highly skilled when it comes to combat and it’s difficult enough to score a victory against him the first time. Kaneki has long lost count of the times Hide would rant about Furuta’s shitty smirk and pretentious words of apologies when they’re back in the privacy of their room and ready to settle down for bed. And if Hide isn’t exaggerating—which he tends to at times—it must’ve been quite a long match, to have to score five kills against him before they were stopped.

“I get the feeling he’ll probably try to pay you back in other ways, though,” Kaneki tells him, to which Hide only makes an indifferent gesture with his hand.

“I’d like to see him try,” he says carelessly. At that, Kaneki shoots him a frown. He doesn’t know Furuta through and through, but he knows enough to expect him to be the kind to hold grudges. Hide should as well; his intuition is miles better than Kaneki’s, after all.

“I can take care of myself, Kaneki, don’t worry about it,” Hide promises, not exactly doing much to ease his worries. Seeing his unfading glower, Hide reaches to gently poke at the furrow on his brow. “Come on, man, don’t look at me like that!”

Kaneki complies by switching to a more judgemental look, failing to restrain the laugh bubbling up his throat when Hide playfully demands to be respected after coming this far. Kaneki has never been able to understand how Hide’s always able to break tension with so much ease. He seems to always know what he needs to do to lift Kaneki’s mood, no matter what happened.

“I’d like to go back to join everyone again soon,” Kaneki says, almost wistfully. Even if it could be just for a couple of days, it gets lonely real fast. Hide’s hands find his and squeezes encouragingly.

“I’m sure you would,” he says, with so much confidence that Kaneki finds himself believing him. “But I’ll try to drop by as often as I can if you have to stay longer. _Even if I do have to do it illegally,_ ” he mumbles the last part.

Kaneki’s protest is immediate. “Hide!”

“Joking, joking!” Hide holds up his hands in surrender. “I’ll only do it illegally if I can’t get permission, okay?”

“That’s not assuring at all and you know it,” Kaneki points out. Hide merely shrugs, showing no signs of being bothered by the idea of receiving punishment. If there’s one thing Kaneki really fears about him, it’s his foolish selflessness when it comes to him. Don’t get him wrong; Kaneki would willingly give up even his life for him if the need ever arises, but Hide’s loyalty is almost at a whole new level. No matter how close they are, no matter how much Kaneki means to him, he shouldn’t have to go to such lengths for him. It just…doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem _healthy_.

“I’m serious, Hide,” Kaneki says, catching his gaze and holding it firm. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid just to come see me?”

He stares him down until Hide finally heaves a weary sigh, reaching to scratch the back of his neck in a rather sheepish manner.

“I can’t say no if you give me that look now, can I?” he murmurs in defeat, and bit by bit, Kaneki smiles once more.

**xXx**

As it turns out, Kaneki gets sent back to the rest of the children the day after the next.

And for the first time in a long while, he returns hardly feeling any perpetual pain across his body. Was his regeneration abilities pushed to the point that it even got rid of the ache it hasn’t been able to for the past ten years? Or maybe it has something to do with the packet of clear chemical he didn’t recognize that was hooked to his arm not long after Hide left from his visit? He guesses it’s probably the latter. There’s no way his body would be able to make such a drastic change by itself so abruptly.

It feels great, being able to move as he likes without having to wince every five seconds. Kaneki finds himself working through his training with more enthusiasm than he ever had; defeating his opponents with an ease he doesn’t know he had until he’s staring down at them, his breathing barely off rhythm and his muscles tingling with adrenaline. It’s a new feeling, to realize he’s been this strong all along and that the only thing holding him back was the constant soreness he’s newly freed from. How much further could he go like this? How much more room for improvement does he have when he’s already this good now? Such thoughts drive him to try harder even with his already obvious advantage, tempting to test his limits, to do things that never seemed possible for him all this while when they really had been. To fight, to win.

Kaneki’s jarred from his daze-like state by the sound of bones breaking and a howl of pain.

He stares at the girl sprawled on the ground in front of him in growing horror. What has he done? Her right leg is twisted in a strange angle, her knee red and swelling angrily. He takes a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. Oh, god, what has he _done?_

“I’m—“ His words stop in his throat before he can voice them, unable to even utter an apology. For that one moment, he’d been drunk on his own power. That’s what happened. He got carried away the instant the only restraint he knows was eliminated, carelessly wielding his own strength until someone is hurt.

Despite himself, Kaneki silently thanks no one in particular that his opponent hadn’t been Hide.

He knows his best friend is watching; the commotion he’s causing is quite hard to miss. But Kaneki doesn’t turn to look, instead only able to stare at the injured girl while standing so still he hardly dares to breathe as he awaits verdict from the instructor. He doesn’t dare find out how Hide’s looking at him then; if his eyes are wide in terror or mouth twisted in disgust or eyebrows drawn together in disappointment. Disciplinary punishment is something he can handle. Hide distancing himself from him because of something he did—because of something he most likely _is_ —is not.

He watches numbly as the girl is carried away in a stretcher, the buzzing in his ears making it difficult for him to tell if someone’s talking to him. He looks up when he feels a sharp pat on his shoulder, but the person who’s done it has already disappeared. Huh? His confusion gives him the courage to glance around him, trying to make sense of what’s happening. Everyone else pays him no attention, scattered across the gym in small groups and each of them returning to their own devices. Had Kaneki been given any instructions in specific that he didn’t hear? It almost seems so.

…what’s he to do then?

“Kaneki.”

Upon hearing the call of his name, Kaneki tenses. He keeps his gaze stubbornly averted from Hide even when the other boy leans close to catch his eyes, completely ignoring all notions of personal space. He doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to see.

“You’re excused from the rest of the session, you know,” Hide tells him once he’s finally decided that Kaneki’s obstinate in not facing him, crossing his arm over his chest. Absently, Kaneki nods.

“Okay.”

A pause. “Hey, Kaneki?”

“Hm?”

“Are you, by any chance—“ Hide leans in once more, just a little—“feeling bad over what you just did?”

Kaneki’s breath hitches. “I just—“ he tries, stopping to purse his lips in search of a way to describe the hollow, uncomfortable sensation in his belly. “I don’t really know what I’m feeling, to be honest. I… I just know I didn’t like it; hurting her like that.”

A lapse of silence from Hide. A slight sink of Kaneki’s heart. Does he not believe him? Has the way he’s acted earlier given him the reason to doubt him now?

“It’s not your fault, Kaneki,” Hide says at last, appalling Kaneki with the absurdity of his statement. What is he even _saying?_ It remains an undeniable fact that Kaneki had been responsible for the injury causing the girl so much pain that even years and years of discipline isn’t enough to stop her from crying out. That extent of agony is something Kaneki’s only too familiar with; it’s not something he’d feel pleasant upon inflicting on someone else who hasn’t done him any wrong.

“She tried to kick you but you caught her leg,” Hide further explains when Kaneki doesn’t respond, as though being aware of the haze of concentration that clouded his mind during the deed. “She tried to twist herself free. You held on.” He then frowns. “Well. I guess it’d be more accurate to say you’re not _entirely_ at fault in that case but the point is—“ he trails off with a huff, his expression seemingly deflating by each second of stretched wordlessness. He eventually notices Kaneki looking at him funny and works to amend his façade at once, waving his hands elaborately.

“S-Sorry! I lost my train of thought back there,” he says, his sheepish smile not quite convincing. Still, Kaneki doesn’t push for more explanations; he’s more than happy to leave the discussion there.  

“I think… I’ll just go back to our room for now,” Kaneki says, gesturing for Hide to stop before he could offer to go with him. “You still have to train, don’t you?”

“Will you be okay?” Hide asks instead of answering, eyebrows drawn together in concern. Hesitating a split second, Kaneki nods. “Alright then. I’ll join you once I’m done here.”

Kaneki doesn’t feel Hide’s gaze leave him until the door closes behind him.

**xXx**

Kaneki’s pain doesn’t return and it scares him.

Hide doesn’t need to hear the words from Kaneki himself to tell. It’s obvious enough in his body language, his actions. His hesitance to spar, his tentativeness to touch even Hide. The constant furrow of concern across his brow.

The disappearance of Kaneki’s pain should, by all rights, be something to be celebrated. It’s only logical; it’s been the source of his suffering for so long, after all. It doesn’t make sense for the loss of it to torment him as much. Everyone tells Kaneki that it’s fine even if he doesn’t hold back, that it’s actually more beneficial to the others because it’ll give them an idea of what calibre of strength a ghoul possesses. The other Garden kids don’t particularly seem to mind bearing some injuries if that’s what it takes to learn and even actively encourage Kaneki to stop looking down at them and fight them seriously. The issue lies mainly on Kaneki himself. It’s simply not his nature to be aggressive.

But, as always, the Garden isn’t a place where one’s unaggressive nature is taken into consideration. It’s either Kaneki sucks it up, or he’s spending even more time in the labs trapped in a capsule and have his kakuhou harvested. And as much as he hates harming others, Kaneki hates the labs even more.

He’s never given a choice. It’s always choosing between the devil or the sea for Kaneki, and Hide has always loathed everyone who made it so. He’s always loathed not being able to make a difference, not being able to help give Kaneki a third and possibly better option.

But maybe—just maybe, if everything goes well, he can finally take his first step in changing that soon.

It’s been painstaking, working on the wild plan that’d suddenly sprung up in his mind during his solitary confinement the other day to where he is now. Hide can never relax; no one must know what he’s up to. The maps, the schedules, the secret discussions with Arima who agreed to help them because he too, sees the wrongness of the Garden and wishes for change even though he claims it’s long past since there’s hope left for himself—Hide can’t let anyone find out about them. Even a slight suspicion is too dangerous. He’s betting on the CCG’s firm belief that the children from the Garden can only depend solely on the institution for food, finance and shelter. As long as they think no one would act up as long as they still need a place to call home, no matter how unbearable it is, Hide’s confident that things are still in his favour.

The only challenge now is to find the proper timing.

Hide’s new coat feels too heavy on his shoulders; he wonders how Arima seems to still be able to move so fluidly while wearing his. Hide, Kaneki and another girl from their batch are currently assigned to join Arima’s squad for a small mission for “exposure”—that is, to start helping them get used to actual fighting instead of just the usual sparring. Hide’s excited for exactly three things: 1) only children who’s deemed to have a certain level of skill are allowed to participate in actual missions, which means Hide’s gotten strong enough to qualify, 2) he’ll get to see Arima Kishou on the battlefield for the first time and he’s always been curious to see for himself how crazy strong the older boy is, and 3) they’re going outside.

The first and last are the most important. Being strong enough means he can do his best to help Kaneki fight his share of opponents if it ever comes to it. Going outside means he’ll have a better idea of how certain places would look like so he can use them to his best advantage when it matters. Hide can’t let chances like this go to waste.

“Stop.”

Arima’s voice is soft, but his command firm. Hide halts in his tracks, his thumb poised above the knob of his briefcase. The air around them is still, the silence broken only by the sound of water dripping from a pipe nearby. Hide glances around, swallowing in nervous anticipation. How many ghouls are there? Are they surrounded? He takes a breath, feels a slight bristle in the atmosphere—

And the entire squad suddenly bursts into a flurry of movement; with Arima whipping out his Quinque and parrying a kagune aiming for him in one smooth motion, Hide leaping to the side to narrowly avoid a shower of ukaku projectiles, and the rest of them lunging straight into action to engage their enemies. Everything happens at such a rapid pace that Hide doesn’t have time to think. There are around twelve ghouls facing their squad of five. While Arima can probably handle all twelve of them by himself, Hide’s pretty sure he and his original squad member have been ordered to hold back to give the three younger ones a chance and only intervene when it’s absolutely necessary. So either way, Hide has to fight.

It’s very different, fighting in a battlefield for real and training in the gym back in the Garden. There’s always been a subconscious assurance that a mistake during training will only mean a few bruises, a broken streak, a motivation to work harder next time. Now Hide has to constantly remind himself that if he blunders now, there might not be a next time. That can’t do. He still has goals to achieve, plans to carry out. A best friend he desperately wants to give a better life to. Not having a next time is not an option.

It’s still unnerving, though. Ghouls look exactly like humans, and no matter how hard Hide tries to convince himself that they’re different, they’re monsters, he can’t. Not once, not completely. Not when the only difference between them and his own best friend is the fact that Kaneki can eat human food. But not killing the ones he’s facing now would mean showing hesitation, and Hide doesn’t know if it would be so easily overlooked. He’s already drawn enough attention to himself; any more than this and his plan might be jeopardized.

It’s… alright. Hide doesn’t owe them anything.

But they’ve never done anything to personally antagonize him as well, have they? 

Hide dodges the hand reaching to choke him, ducking in close to the ghoul. Then before it—he? She?—could react, he swings his arm in a wide arc, gritting his teeth at the resistance that meets his blade when it cuts through flesh and bone. Blood stains his hands, splatters against his face in warm, dense droplets. The smell of iron fills his nostrils when he takes a sharp breath, but just as he realizes he’s missed the ghoul’s throat, he’s pushed back in a single forceful kick that crushes the air from his lungs.

He stumbles back coughing, regaining his bearings just in time to tighten his grip on his Quinque and deflect a kagune aiming for his middle. It shouldn’t be this difficult, Hide can’t help thinking as he once again throws himself into combat, trying and _trying_ to find the opening that simply refuses to reveal itself. He’s sparred with almost everyone in the Garden—he should be used to exposing weak spots by now. He usually is during training. But he can’t seem to do the same when it matters? Like now? Is it because there’s too vast of a difference between the experiences of a ghoul who’s fought to live for all their lives and his own? Had he been unconsciously underestimating them all this while?

He can hear him panting from his exhaustion and pain. Yes, the ghoul’s a “him”. The ghoul’s mask had slipped away from his face when the butt of Hide’s dagger caught its edge earlier, revealing the face of a boy not much older than himself, by the looks of it. As Hide works to defend, he notices the ghoul’s movements slowing down. He’s tiring. And with the way he uses his kagune sparingly, it must’ve been a while since he fed.

Yet he’s still fighting tooth and nail against him. Now that he’s seen his face, he can’t let him leave alive.

Hide would very much prefer to leave alive.

Their fight eventually comes to an almost abrupt end, as all fights do. One bad step back and the ghoul slips, giving Hide the chance to lunge forward and drive his Quinque through his heart. He hears him mutter something before he falls unmoving on the ground, and it’s only when he reaches down to retrieve his dagger that he realizes what he’d said. What he’d called him.

_Monster_.

In each other’s eyes, they’re both monsters.

“-gachika, look out!”

Hide turns just in time to see a kagune pierce through the ghoul aiming to strike him from behind. Kaneki walks up to him as he works to remember how to breathe, and gradually, it dawns him why something seems to feel off. It’s the silence. The mission’s complete. They’ve eradicated their targets.

“Hide, are you okay?” Kaneki asks, bending to offer him a hand. The calmness in his voice almost sounds cold, detached. Hearing it gives Hide a strange sensation in his gut.

“Yeah.”

As it turns out, however, Kaneki’s hand is trembling every bit as much as his own.

**…**

_It’s different._

Ken finally begins understanding Arima’s words from before. Many of his books speak of wars, of gray judgements, of monsters—but to read about them and to experience them himself isn’t the same. Ghouls are monsters, it’s been drilled into their minds the moment they can understand words. Their existence itself is a mistake. They have to be killed for the survival of the human race.

But…they’re also so human in so many aspects, Kaneki slowly comes to realize with dread. The missions he’s taken part in showed him how even ghouls care for their friends, mourn over deaths of those they hold close. Even ghouls have the ability to give up their own lives for the sake of their children’s.

Sure, there are a number of them who choose to be aggressive by actively killing humans and wrecking havoc. Sure, there are those who cause so much damage and death in their wake that it’s only right for them to be stopped. But there are many times when it dawns Kaneki that they, the CCG, are also killing those who are simply trying to survive. Those who take the lives of others because that’s the only way they could thrive. Those whose actions are judged as “wrong” even though there’s not much difference from  those of humans simply because what they consume aren’t animal meat.

Is this really the right thing to do? Kaneki can’t tell anymore. And even if it isn’t, does he have a choice? The whole purpose of his existence is to fight ghouls; it’s been determined the moment he’s born. Would he have anything else besides that?

“Have you ever thought about running away?”                                                  

Hide whispers the words close to his ear, his wariness towards being heard ingrained into his being by now. Kaneki almost suspects it being another one of Hide’s conspiracy talks that they initiate every other night, but something’s different. There’s a certain conviction in his voice now that scares him as much as it captivates him. It sounds more like an invitation rather than the start of a discussion that’ll lead to nothing in the end.

“Have _you?”_ he whispers in return when Hide leans back to face him properly, studying the warm brown eyes he’s become so familiar with. Hide’s gaze remains firm when he answers.

“Yes.”

Somehow, Kaneki already expected he would have. It’s Hide, after all. His best friend who thinks too much to be safe in a place like the Sunlit Garden.

“Is it even possible?” With how their entire lives depend so heavily on the place? Without the Garden, where would they stay for shelter? How would they find money for food and clothes? How will they be able to keep hiding from being hunted down? Hide sure makes it sound so simple.

“It is.” He also sounds so certain, confident. “Someone has done it before, and we can do it again.”

“It won’t be easy,” Kaneki warns, “they’re sure to have tightened their security by now and—“

“I know, Kaneki,” Hide assures, reaching to take his hand in his. “Trust me, I know. That’s why it took me so long.”

Kaneki frowns, confused. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re tired of being treated like a test subject,” Hide explains, never once flickering his eyes away, “if you’re tired of killing ghouls for no reason other than it being an order, or even if you’re tired of being caged in here under this annoying surveillance—we _can_ run away. Just the two of us. I’ve just finished planning everything out. If you want to leave, our soonest chance is when we join Arima-san on a mission next month.”

“And if I want to stay?”

He promptly feels stupid to even have asked.

“Then I’m not going anywhere as well.”

“This is too sudden, Hide. I—“ Kaneki shifts to hug his elbows—“I don’t know. We don’t have _anything_ outside the Garden.”

“Hey, we’ll still have each other,” Hide reminds him with a small laugh. “And Arima-san, too. He’ll be helping us if we decide to leave.”

And at that, Kaneki stares at him. “Arima-san? As in _the_ Arima-san?”

“Unless there’s another Arima-san you happen to know.” Hide smiles wryly, though he’s quick to turn serious once more. “I guess this is one of the only ways he thinks he has left to rebel. He might not act and look like it, but even he…”

He doesn’t finish, but Kaneki understands. Of all of them, Arima is probably the one who’s the most shackled down by the CCG. He was already their strongest weapon by the time he’s about their age, and gained himself the title of a Death God by his twenties. It’s obvious how much the CCG relies on him, how much possibly unwanted responsibilities he has to carry. It’s no surprise that even someone as seemingly detached and distant as him would yearn for freedom.

_I no longer have the chance, but I can help give you yours,_ seems to be the message Arima’s trying to tell them. But does Kaneki deserve it? Is there anything he can do as a token of gratitude for Arima risking so much for their sakes?

“I need some time to think about it.” Kaneki takes a deep breath. “I’ll let you know when I’ve decided, Hide.”

Is there _anything_ he can do at all in return?

**xXx**

When Hide hears his name in the list of those compatible to receive Kaneki’s kakuhou, the only clear thought he has is _thank god_ _Kaneki isn’t there to know_.

He mustn’t know. Otherwise he would stubbornly refuse to leave.

Hide’s not even the most compatible one; he’s smack in the middle of the list. So even if he _does_ stay for the implantation, there’s still a fifty-fifty chance that it’ll fail and he’ll get eaten alive by the kagune. Hide himself isn’t sure he’s willing to take the risk. He’d rather live the few years he still has the way he wants and in relative happiness with his most important person than to place his bets on a do-or-die surgery.

They can’t stay for the implantations. Hide’s certain that once that phase of the Garden’s project begins, their chances to escape will drop to a barest minimum. Not only will they be more heavily monitored, Kaneki will be too exhausted. Hide’s plan heavily relies on them going on missions outside; they’ll face a huge setback if that’s taken from them.

But it’s been a week and Kaneki still hasn’t decided. Hide doesn’t understand. Should it really be _that_ difficult to choose between leaving a prison-like institution that treats your body like some kind of organic resource and staying for the basic needs that they can no doubt be able to provide for themselves somehow anyway? Don’t get him wrong, Hide’s fully aware of the risks they’ll have to face if they escape. He’s aware that the CCG will hunt them down to the ends of the earth before they’re able to spread word about what they’re actually doing behind the scenes. He’s aware that once Kaneki leaves the Garden’s protection he’ll be vulnerable to being executed just like any other ghoul. He’s aware that if he doesn’t receive Kaneki’s kagune, he’ll die before he can reach thirty years old.

Yet he’s willing to risk it all because if Kaneki stays, he too, might die before he reaches thirty. Or even his twenties, with the strain those experiments are putting on his body. Hide doesn’t want that. He wants Kaneki to live and see things and meet people and do all the things they’re not allowed to do if they remain in the Garden. He wants to show him that beyond the walls that surround them, there’s a life worth struggling for.

He just hopes he’ll let him.

“Have you decided?”

Hide has come to realize over time that sometimes, he has no choice but to be pushy when it comes to handling Kaneki in certain situations. He gets the feeling that Kaneki will only stay wavering if he doesn’t say a thing.

He sees him hesitating even now.

“I… I still don’t know, Hide,” Kaneki tells him, eyes averted in remorse. “I’m sorry.”

Hide falls silent for a moment, studying his companion’s face. “What’s bothering you?”

Kaneki tenses the slightest. “It’s—“

“Do you think you don’t… _deserve_ this chance to escape?” Hide ventures, and with the way Kaneki pales, he knows he’s guessed right. The effort it takes him not to breathe a sigh is almost comical. “And why would you think so?”

“Because there’s nothing I can think of doing that’ll honour everyone’s efforts in helping me get out,” Kaneki says, his words rushed and voice tight with frustration. “Because I don’t even _know_ what I can do for Arima-san’s sake even though he’s putting himself in such a dangerous situation for us.”

“Kaneki, that’s not tru—“

“How can you be so sure, Hide?” Kaneki interrupts, and it’s as he watches him slowly lose his composure that it finally dawns Hide. Kaneki _has_ been thinking. He’s been thinking about it for so long and still hasn’t found an answer and the stress has only been building up more and more. “Or you’re not and you don’t even _care_ because all that matters to you is your own freedom?”

 Wait. _Whoa_. Hide does a mental rewind. Did Kaneki actually just _say_ that? Did he actually just accuse him of something? The mellow, passive Kaneki he knows since he was a kid? That’s a first. Hide’s grown up pretty thick-skinned if he may say so himself, but Kaneki’s words sting him more than anything’s ever had in a long time. Maybe it’s because deep down, he finds it unfair that Kaneki’s mad at him when the primary reason for this entire plan of his was Kaneki himself in the first place. Maybe it’s because he feels painfully underappreciated despite having gotten to this point.

Maybe it’s because Kaneki’s accusation hit home.

It seems to slowly dawn Kaneki; what he’s just said and done. “Hide, I’m s—“

“Don’t,” Hide speaks before he can finish. He inhales sharply; this isn’t the time to be feeling offended. “Don’t apologize. You’re right. I want to leave this place so bad that I can barely even _bring_ myself to care what happens to the people who might be affected if I do that.” He huffs a breath, raking his fingers through his hair. “I should be the one to be sorry, Kaneki. I’m sorry if you feel like I’m being too forceful.”

At that, Kaneki only purses his lips, not saying a word. Hide keeps going anyway.

“Tell me truthfully, Kaneki,” he says, leaning a little forward to try meeting his eyes. “Whether you deserve it or not aside, what do _you_ really want? Do you want to run away with me?”

And he waits. He waits until his best friend _finally_ looks at him and nods like it’s the hardest thing in the world to admit.

Then slowly, Hide smiles.

“I’m not sure if you realized, Kaneki,” he begins, “but Arima-san isn’t expecting to gain anything much by helping us to begin with. No offense, but I’m sure his expectations for us aren’t all that high—there’s only so much we can do by ourselves, after all. It’s like you said: we don’t have anything outside the Garden, not even an identity. We’re too insignificant to bring any obvious changes, and I’m sure Arima-san knows that better than anyone.” He holds Kaneki’s gaze steadily. “Yet he’s chosen to help us. Do you know why?”

“Because I’m the only half-ghoul in the Garden,” Kaneki mutters in a way that implies he still hasn’t figured out anything beyond that. Hide nods.

“Because without you, the experiments and the Garden project will be interrupted,” he explains, “and they _will_ be halted indefinitely until they’re able to breed and raise another natural-born half-ghoul—which, may never happen again. Ever.”

“But doesn’t that just mean they’ll keep doing whatever they’re doing anyway?” Kaneki argues, “even if they can’t breed half-ghouls they’ll still be able to breed half-humans as disposable weapons. There’s nothing to stop them.”

“A small step is still a step, Kaneki,” Hide says patiently. “Sometimes we have to accept that small steps are all we can take. Some responsibilities are just not ours to bear.” He lets out a breath, and adds in a quieter voice, “Sometimes there’s nothing else we can do but to turn away.”

“And if I don’t want to turn away?”

Hide studies his companion’s face; noting the set of his lips, the determination in his eyes. It’s not like him to want to be this involved in sparking changes—he wonders what’s going on in his mind. He can’t exactly decide if that’s a good thing, either. If all the attention he’s going to potentially bring upon himself by doing so would ultimately lead to more trouble for him in the future.

“Then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you know you’re not alone in whatever it is that you want to do,” Hide swears, holding Kaneki’s gaze firmly. “I promise.”

Kaneki falls silent once more, contemplating. A minute passes, three. Then his expression hardens with resolve, and Hide knows he’s finally come to a decision.

“Alright. How are we going to leave?”

**xXx**

Ever since the first runaway incident, it’s been virtually impossible to sneak out of the Sunlit Garden’s walls once more.

That’s why Hide’s plan doesn’t involve sneaking out. It instead takes advantage of their periodic assignments to Arima’s Squad Zero in missions, bypassing the tight security of the institution. They’ll slip off during the heat of the battle and into the network of sewers underground where it’ll be the most dangerous, but also the safest way to avoid being found. Arima’s given Hide a copy of the sewer maps (he has them because he’s apparently also often sent to deal with ghouls underground), and both Hide and Kaneki have memorized the routes they’re to take. Though whether or not it’ll make a difference when it comes to the real thing, Kaneki doesn’t know. It’s a dense, dense maze down there.

The most immediate problem at the moment, though, is the fact that a certain Furuta Nimura is included in this mission as well. Of _all_ people and times. To say they’re wary of him might be an understatement. There’s no way at all he should even have the slightest idea about their escape, but Kaneki’s still worried. Furuta seems like the kind of person who has a knack for ruining things without trying and finds enjoyment in doing just that.

Kaneki guesses they’ll just have to deal with him if the situation calls for it.

“Hey, hey, Nagachika-kun?”

Kaneki could almost hear the sigh Hide immediately suppresses when Furuta trots next to him with a slightly mischievous bounce in his step. He seems to be the only person so far who’s unaffected by the usual grave atmosphere of ghoul exterminations; being able to retain this playful, apathetic air around himself despite being on the way to yet another potentially bloody battle. Kaneki finds it unnerving—no wonder Furuta’s the Garden’s favourite. He’s the perfect fighting machine.

“What?” Hide sounds like he’s trying very hard to resist ignoring him. Given how much he hates his guts, Kaneki’s impressed that he didn’t shut him up flat out. He doesn’t like the way Furuta glances at him with that little smirk on his face, though.

“You’re scheduled to receive Kaneki-kun’s kakuhou in two weeks, right?” Furuta asks, almost too loudly. Kaneki’s breath promptly stops in his throat. “Aren’t you excited?”

Kaneki knows about the kakuhou implantations that are supposed to take place a little after they return from this mission. He’s been informed of at least that much and he also knows why it’s so crucial for them to leave before that. But… Hide being one of the candidates compatible to receive his kakuhou? Why didn’t he tell him anything? If the operation succeeds his lifespan can be lengthened and he won’t need to die and—

_Ah_. He abruptly realizes the exact reason why Hide hasn’t said a thing to him.

“Not at all,” Hide replies coolly without looking Kaneki’s way even once. “There’s only a fifty percent chance of success for me, and knowing there’s a one in two chances that I might die doesn’t exactly sound appealing.”

“Aww, don’t be so negative!” Furuta says without sounding a bit reassuring. “I’m sure Kaneki-kun’s kagune will like you since you’re both so close!”

Hide mutters something Kaneki isn’t able to hear under his breath the exact moment Arima orders them to quiet down. Kaneki’s heart hammers against his chest, his mind spins from the new information. If they stay, Hide might have the chance to live longer. A fifty percent success rate is still better than none at all. Hide won’t have to die early and leave him alone.

Kaneki starts when Hide brushes his fingers across his arm, shooting him a look that tells him not to think about it. Kaneki returns it with a frown, to which Hide then responds with a subtle shake of his head. _I’m not taking the risk for that operation, he seems to insist,_ the look in his gaze pleading for him to understand. Kaneki doesn’t. Surely they’ll find another opportunity to escape in the future? Once Hide gives up this one chance to receive Kaneki’s kakuhou, there will be none left. Kaneki doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand at all.

He doesn’t even have the _time_ to try understanding Hide’s reasoning behind his decision.

Fights with rogue ghouls are always abrupt, intense. All it takes is one attack to disrupt the balance, one person to make the first move, and whatever that follows will be almost impossible to keep track of. Kaneki’s engaged in combat before he knows it, his body instinctively moving to lure his opponent further away from the rest of the squad as Hide planned despite his newfound hesitation. Hide has given him the freedom to choose whether or not he wants to run away with him; isn’t it only right that he gives him his in return? Even when this case involves Hide choosing to live a shorter life?

Kaneki’s so distracted he nearly gets impaled in the gut; managing to dodge with just a graze on his right rib. He tries to retaliate, but his movements feel unusually sluggish. What’s he supposed to do? Will he disregard Hide’s resolution to rather die early than let the Garden go on doing whatever they want with the children’s bodies? Will he put everyone’s efforts thus far to waste for his own selfish wish of not wanting his closest and dearest friend to leave him behind a few years in the future?

It feels like that one time again, where every part of his body was numbed of feeling. Except even his mind feels numb now. He can’t think, can’t think. They’ve come this far. He can’t—

“Don’t look down on me, brat!”

This time, Kaneki snaps into attention a second too late. Pain flares up in his hands, his Quinque knocked from his grip in a blow he no doubt could’ve avoided had his thoughts been calmer. The ghoul he’s facing then attempts to take advantage of his second of surprised daze and lack of weapon, charging  right towards him with his kagune poised to attack.

Hide intersects him before he reaches Kaneki, pushing him back with a firm kick. For a reason Kaneki can’t explain, the sight of him causes something in him to finally crumble, and the panic he’s been unconsciously holding back comes flooding forth.

He can’t breathe, can’t breathe.

“Kaneki, we have to—“ Hide doesn’t finish his sentence, trailing off the moment he turns and sees the state Kaneki’s in. “Kaneki…?”

He doesn’t get to ask him what’s wrong, being forced to defend against the ghoul now thirsting for his blood. As Hide leads the ghoul a bit away, the strength seems to suddenly leave Kaneki’s legs, and he falls to his knees.

“Hide, I...” he gasps, his voice shaky. His chest hurts, his head spins. “I-If we leave, you can’t—“

Air doesn’t seem to be entering his lungs. Spots dance in his vision. He’s scared. The noises of combat around him sound too loud, too overwhelming. This is bad. Not now, please. He can’t break down, can’t break down, can’t break do—

“Kaneki!” Hide enters his field of vision with a firm call of his name, a splatter of blood across his jaw and neck. It’s not his, it doesn’t smell like his. He reaches out, but seems to hesitate in touching him at the last minute. “Listen, it’s going to be okay. I’m here.”

With an absurd amount of effort, Kaneki swallows, nodding haltingly. He gradually registers the sting in his scalp where his fingers tug harshly on his hair. Tentatively, Hide rests his hands on his shoulders.

“Take it slow, Kaneki. Yeah, just like that. One breath at a time.” He times a deep inhale along with him, guiding him in a slow exhale. “It’s alright. I’m not leaving you. Don’t let Furuta throw you off; I’ll be okay.”

Which part of dying at a young age does Hide find ‘okay’ is beyond Kaneki’s ability to fathom. Still, he’s slowly calming down again. The tone of Hide’s voice and his reassuring presence is helping.

“They couldn’t find any flaws in my genetic makeup that’ll lead to any conditions, you know,” Hide explains further while keeping a close eye on him. Kaneki struggles to process his words. Is that the truth or is he just making something up to put him at ease? “It’ll be fine, Kaneki. I’m not leaving you anytime soon, I promise.” Hide glances around, frowning. “I wish we can take a little more time for you to recover, but we have to hurry.” He turns to face him once more. “I’m really sorry, Kaneki. I know I shouldn’t rush you in this but…”

“Oh my, what’s the haste, Nagachika-kun? Can’t you see your dear Kaneki-kun’s not exactly in the best shape at the moment?”

Furuta _definitely_ has a knack for ruining things. Kaneki hears Hide take a sharp, self-controlling breath.

“He’ll be in worse shape if you keep staying there and running your mouth, Furuta,” Hide retorts drily as he stands up. His cutting words don’t faze the other boy the slightest.

“Hey, I was just worried because I didn’t see the two of you around,” Furuta says with mocking concern in his voice, swaying his body comically. “So I volunteered to look for you guys! Fancy me finding you both so far away from the rest of the group! What may you be up to, hmm? Oh, what may you be up to?”

“Go back to the squad and tell Arima-san we’re fine; we’ll return as soon as Kaneki recovers,” Hide says, his composure giving nothing away. He’s doing a great job sounding authoritative despite the pinch they’re currently in.

Furuta simply smiles indulgently. “And if I don’t want to because I’m too worried about my precious _friends_ from the Garden?”

“ _Please_ , as if you’re ever worried about anyone besides yourself,” Hide scoffs, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Though Kaneki’s breathing has finally evened out by now, his heart is still beating fast and his muscles tense. He can’t see Hide’s expression from his position, but he knows he’s thinking, weighing their options.

“I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what bothering you,” Furuta assures suddenly with a dismissive wave of his hand. At this point, Kaneki won’t even be surprised if he’s seriously on to them about their plans to run off. His timing alone gives out enough suspicions.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hide deadpans. Furuta clucks at him in disapproval, waggling a finger.

“Hideyoshi, Hideyoshi,” he shakes his head in exaggerated disappointment. “Don’t you think it’s obvious enough that the two of you are going t—“

He stops just in time to dodge the dagger Hide abruptly flings towards him. Then just as he’s opening his mouth to make yet another one of his annoying remarks, Hide picks up Kaneki’s Quinque from the ground by his feet and runs him through in such a smooth, rapid and precise transition that Kaneki’s muddled brain only registers what’s happened _after_ Hide grabs his hand and pulls him along into a run.

This is it. There’s no going back.

Kaneki doesn’t see anyone following them even as they scramble down the porthole Hide has singled out beforehand and into the darkness. They don’t risk the seconds to even catch their breath, forging on by torchlight before their eyes could adjust to the lack of light. Despite how firmly Hide holds his hand, he’s unable to mask the tremor in his touch. Kaneki returns his tight grip as he steps into Hide’s pace, using his free hand to brush the tears staining his cheeks.

The thought of having to let go of him permanently some time in the near future truly, truly terrifies him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moral of the story is: do not attempt to fit such an expendable AU into a oneshot. you will suffer.

Hide twists a lock of hair between his fingers as he watches the news broadcast on the café television, now no longer as upset over how brittle it feels after having it bleached.

It’s been a month since they pulled off their escape from the Garden, and while he’s sure they’re still being hunted down like convicts on the loose, it’s been relatively peaceful so far. The CCG and Garden can’t exactly make a big issue out of finding them without raising some suspicions, and it’s not like they have the manpower to spare to carry out a nationwide search for two teenagers who look like any other out there. It’s all been taken into consideration when Hide was making his plans. There’s a reason why the first half-ghoul from the Garden hasn’t been found, and he knew how to exploit it.

Though really, there’s probably no need for him to go the extra mile to bleach his hair when he had it tidied up not long after things began quieting down and they could relax a little. His original brown hair would’ve made him less conspicuous in public, after all. Maybe he was just feeling a bit careless deep down, he didn’t know. Besides, bleached hair doesn’t seem to be the rarest thing around these days. Even _he_ wants to do some things for himself sometimes.

“Hey, do you think ghouls really exist?” he hears the high-school student behind him whisper to his friend upon hearing the mention of an attack in the neighbouring Ward on the news. And _do_ they, Hide finds himself musing as he gulps down the rest of his cappuccino before bringing the cup to the back of the store to clean it. He exchanges a quick greeting with the café manager when he later sees him outside, telling him he’ll be right down for his shift as soon as he gets changed.

The manager of Anteiku has done heaps aiding their escape from the Garden. An aged man by the name of Yoshimura, he’s the acquaintance Arima mentioned who would be able to hide them and keep them safe from the grasps of the CCG and the people actually behind the Garden—a mysterious organization called V. They’d miraculously managed to find the place where they were supposed to meet him in the sewers after what seemed to be an eternity of doubts and guesses once they realized they missed a turn at one point in the heat of excitement. Hide swears he’s never going back down there ever unless his or Kaneki’s life heavily depend on it. He’s never feared the dark as much as he had then.

Yoshimura had lead them through some doors, stairs, and more tunnels that seem to span kilometres upon kilometres. Then finally, just as Hide’s about to fail in suppressing a complaint, they stopped before a steel ladder not unlike many they’d already passed without as much as a glance. They climbed out of a hatch to find themselves in an empty giant warehouse of sorts, their footsteps echoing painfully loud throughout the silence. 

They waited there for a few hours more until the sun set, Yoshimura offering them some food which they surprisingly had the appetite to scarf down despite all the adrenaline in the mean time. There was a long, long while of quietness; with the exhaustion gradually setting in, Yoshimura’s care to respect their privacy, and the inappropriateness of their location to discuss the one thing that’s no doubt weighing on Kaneki’s mind ever since Furuta opened his big mouth.

Hide _had_ planned to tell him some time after their escape, don’t get him wrong. Okay—maybe still not the part about him having the compatibility to receive his kakuhou, but he _was_ going to tell him about how he’s pretty much going to remain healthy for at least another five years. Furuta’s timing only made a huge mess and if Hide isn’t so intent in breaking all connections he has to the Garden he’d waltz right back in just to smack that shitty smirk of his face. And to think someone like him is going to leave that place one day to become a full-fledged Ghoul Investigator; what a load of bull. He figures he’d be the first to leave Tokyo if staying means having his personal safety placed under the responsibility of someone like Furuta had he been a normal civilian.

At any rate, they were later driven somewhere even further away by a middle-aged guy Yoshimura simply introduced as Yomo, and it’s only after a car ride that lasted half the night that they reached the café that would from then serve as their refuge. As embarrassing as it was, Hide barely had the energy left to ask questions at that point. They’d come this far anyway; it’s already too late to doubt the old man. All he needed was Yoshimura’s assurance that they’ll be safe there, and he’d conked out the moment his head touched the mattress of the bed assigned to them.

They’ve been there ever since, making the guest rooms above Anteiku their home. They kept a low profile for the first two weeks, only going down to help out before and after opening hours to stretch their legs by the end of the second week. They wore disguises when they finally dared leave to explore the streets; opting for masks and hats that are fortunately not bound to be out of fashion soon. And even _then_ they could not always shake the feeling that they’re being watched or followed by undercover V agents commanded to track them down. Common sense told Hide that blending in was the best option they have, but paranoia told him otherwise. Every person who stared at them a moment longer made their hearts race, every trip back to Yoshimura’s place involved taking wild detours above low buildings and over wire fences. It took a bit of work for them to finally let their guard down enough to not feel like every venture outside was like threading on thin ice.

Kaneki’s already in uniform by the time Hide enters the room they shared, glancing away from the mirror in the middle of adjusting his collar when he hears him. It’s just recently that one of Yoshimura’s employees—a nice young lady called Irimi—suggested for them to work evening shifts at Anteiku. That way, they can pass time easier and earn some extra pocket money (and not freeload!) while minimizing suspicion from their customers. It’s apparently rather common for students their age to be working part time jobs after school despite it being banned by most educational institutions.

Needless to say, it’s been quite a ride since they started the job. They’ve been meeting new people, learning new things. Experiencing a life that doesn’t merely involve fighting and bloodshed.

“You’ve got a cowlick at the back of your head, Kaneki,” Hide points out with amusement as he closes the door behind him. His smile widens when Kaneki responds with a defeated sigh.

“I know, I’ve been trying to get rid of it for almost thirty minutes,” he laments, reaching to pat his hand over the offending lock of hair. “Maybe I shouldn’t have sat like that for so long after all.”

“Oh, don’t worry—I’m sure the ladies would still find you cute!” Hide assures with a chuckle, pulling on his work pants. His heart flutters when he sees the reddish tint dusting across Kaneki’s cheeks.

“T-That’s not the issue here,” Kaneki protests, not meeting his eyes as he walks past him and towards the door. “It’s only proper work etiquette to look tidy during shifts to preserve the image of the workplace and—“

“No offense, Kaneki, but,” Hide interrupts, glancing over his shoulder while he shrugs on a fresh shirt, “you don’t happen to have a thing against being seen as cute by girls, do you?”

“Just hurry up before you’re late, Hide!” And Kaneki leaves.

Hide exhales, another smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It’s been interesting, watching the slow changes in Kaneki’s demeanour ever since they ran away. It hadn’t been easy for him to accept that they’ve thrown away Hide’s only chance of extending his lifespan, even with all of Hide’s reasoning. In fact, Kaneki still hasn’t, not completely. He doesn’t think he ever will. Kaneki’s been aware of the price the half-human children of the Garden have to pay for their strength since day one, but knowing he’s done something that’s prevented Hide from changing his fate seems to have triggered a whole new wave of guilt and paranoia. There are still nights when Hide would be startled awake by his best friend’s insistent shakes of his shoulders because he’s suddenly seized by the irrational fear that he’ll no longer open his eyes. There are still times when Kaneki looks at him as though he might disappear at any moment.

Hide _will_ die young. That’s a fact that can no longer be changed. But he intends to make sure that even after he leaves, Kaneki won’t be alone. That Kaneki would have the support and reason to keep living even after he’s gone. Staying and working here at Anteiku seems to be an effective step forward; he can see that Kaneki genuinely enjoys himself in his job, despite how subtly he shows it. He’s a fast learner so the blunders from his first day he’d been anxious about never did make a reappearance. He’s gotten really good at latte art and brewing coffee as well. Even the air he carries around him is slightly different when he’s working.

Perhaps the knowledge of Anteiku being a place of sanctuary to so many others plays a part in this gradual change. Kaneki had gripped Hide’s hand tight the moment they entered Yomo’s car the other day, apparently detecting a scent Hide hardly noticed. And _blood_ , Kaneki had mouthed at him when all he did in response was blink in confusion. The car smelled like blood. Yoshimura did not miss as much as a beat then, telling them straight off that that’s indeed the smell of blood because of an accident with a corpse once.

Besides them, Anteiku is also a sanctuary for ghouls.

More specifically, it’s a place for ghouls who are peaceful, who are either unwilling or unable to hunt for themselves. Apart from being a café where both humans and ghouls mingle, it’s also a place that provides the latter with the flesh of corpses collected from a popular suicide site at the outskirts of town. Twice every week, someone from Anteiku would drive the very same car Yomo used to transport freshly collected dead bodies, Yoshimura told them. It’s because there’s a place like Anteiku that the 20th Ward in Tokyo is one of the most quiet ones out there when it comes to violent ghoul activity.

It… wasn’t exactly easy to digest at first. Despite their recently uncertainties, the belief that all ghouls are monsters that should be eradicated is still deeply ingrained into their mentality. Being there among possibly so many who are unaggressive, who are willing to feed only on humans who’ve given up on their own lives—it certainly gives one a whole new perspective. While Hide has personally never really thought of orders as being anything beyond orders, let alone whether or not they’re mistakes, he knows Kaneki’s different. He’s prone to being influenced by what he finds right or wrong; a trait of his that’s brought forth enough complications for himself despite giving him a certain compassion Hide lacks towards anyone apart from his best friend. Kaneki spoke of making changes when they talked about their escape. If there’s a place to start on it, Anteiku might just be the best one.

Hide can’t help wondering how much of Kaneki’s legacy he’ll be able to see him build while he’s still around.

He finishes fixing the buttons of his sleeves, and makes his way downstairs for another evening of work.

**xXx**

If he had a choice between living in constant pain or in constant fear, Kaneki thinks he might actually go for the former.

The stress of it all is almost impossible to bear. Going outside eventually stopped being an issue; he no longer had to spend fifteen minutes steeling himself before walking out into the streets and no longer jolted at every contact he makes with strangers or poles or walls. Suspicious individuals have stopped visiting Anteiku and they’ve stopped needing to make quick escapes through their room window on the second floor. Taking adventurous detours on the way back feels more like a habit than a precaution now. In fact, he’s even warming up to some regulars at the café; being able to exchange a word or two of conversation with them as he takes their orders.

It’s the fear and guilt towards Hide’s impending death that’s really gnawing at him.

Kaneki spends almost every night haunted by thoughts of finding Hide lying cold and still beside him the next morning and knowing he’s half at fault that he’s going to lose his closest friend. Even though deep down he too, knows that a surgery with only a fifty percent success rate is a big gamble and that Hide’s decision makes much more sense that it seemed to him initially. If Hide leaves him in this all-new world they’ve found together, Kaneki honestly doesn’t know what he’ll do. It’s too scary to imagine. It’s too scary to imagine a world without Hide.

It gets so terrible on some nights that it’s hard to even breathe. He would try and try and _try_ his best to fight it, to not let panic overwhelm him and send him into shaking, gasping fits by curling into a ball, digging his nails into his palms, biting his lip. But he’d still end up waking him because it’s too much; he _had_ to make sure. Though Hide, being Hide, would never complain as he helps soothe him with his assuring voice and soft touches. Sometimes they’d simply end up staying awake in silence for the rest of the night, each other’s company being all they need. Sometimes Hide would let him press his ear against his chest once he’s calmed down enough to breathe properly so he could listen to the steady _badump, badump, badump_ of his heart. It’s okay, he’s alive. He’ll be here, he’s not going anywhere.

And as the shadows under his eyes grew more and more prominent, Kaneki had something new to hate himself over.

At least he’s too occupied during daytimes to dwell as much upon the matter as he does at night. He spends his mornings either napping lightly to attempt making up for fitful nights, reading the Manager’s vast collection of books he’s free to borrow, helping in the kitchen of the café, or simply wandering around the area with Hide. It’s a huge contrast to their lives back in the Garden, not having to adhere to a strict schedule that barely grants them time for themselves. Besides reading (which, was a given), Kaneki finds himself enjoying his walks outside with Hide the most. They would occasionally go further into town to admire creative shop facades and peer through display windows, sometimes even deciding to spend a bit of their salary on foods they’ve never seen before. Kaneki especially loves watching Hide as he gets excited over new things; the way his eyes sparkle and his features light up at beautifully decorated cakes, articles of clothing that suit his aesthetics, or even when he hears a song he particularly likes. Even with the exhaustion from countless sleepless nights, he seems more radiant now that he’s away from constant surveillance. There’s no longer a need for him to think about what implications every action might bring.

Kaneki can’t help wondering how many more of such faces would he be able to see if the current human-ghoul conflict could ever be solved, if peaceful coexistence could ever be achieved. How many others are there out there who would give anything just to be given the chance they have then? How many children are begging their guardians in vain to stay a bit longer just to have a better look at the toys they’d seen from windows? How many teens and adults have grown up with barely a chance to be so carefree because they’re unwillingly involved with CCG’s targets or are targets themselves? 

Coexistence… huh? Perhaps this is also what Arima quietly wanted when he decided to help them. If there’d been no need to fight, the Garden and its children would not have to exist. Not every problem in the world will be solved, but the main one in theirs would, to the very least. And that’s enough. That should be enough to repay him for everything he’s risked and done for them.

“Kaneki!”

Kaneki looks up to see Hide hurrying towards him, a paper bag in his arms and a smile on his face. He waits as Hide then stops to dig into the bag, fishing out a loosely wrapped piece of fish-shaped pastry. _Taiyaki_ , the menu behind the counter labels it. It smells wonderful.

“Is it worth the long queue?” Hide asks, watching him take his first bite, eyes wide and bright with anticipation. Kaneki chews slowly, savouring the complimenting taste of cooked batter and sweet red bean paste before swallowing. It tastes like nothing he’s ever had before. With a smile of his own, he nods to his best friend’s question.

And then Hide just proceeds to take a huge bite out of his own piece of taiyaki, apparently completely forgetting that it’s fresh off the stove and immediately burning his tongue. That doesn’t seem to upset him too much though, with the suspicious upturn of the corner of his lips when Kaneki frets over him. Despite his efforts, Kaneki isn’t able to stamp down his own tingle of amusement that follows a bloom of pleasant warmth in his heart. Some things just don’t change, do they?

“Let’s go to that place with crepes next, Kaneki!” Hide suggests once he’s able to finish unceremoniously wolfing down the rest of his food, already tugging at his sleeve with his free hand. Kaneki breathes a soft, fond sigh.

“We won’t be able to eat dinner at this rate, Hide,” he tries to reason even though he makes no attempt to stop him. Hide merely grins at him over his shoulder.

“That’s the whole point!” he says cheerily, marching straight on. “When’s the last time we skipped a meal because we had too many snacks?”

It’d be great if days like this wouldn’t come to an end, wouldn’t it?

**xXx**

Time slips by without them noticing, eventually.

Days turn to months, and months turn to years. All in a new, comfortable schedule. Sleep, rise, eat, read, talk, work, repeat. Amongst their continual schedules, they talk. Over a lot of things: the prospect of moving out, entering college, finding more substantial jobs in the future. And in Kaneki’s case, of what they can do to bring changes. Discussing about the last one seems to help reduce the occurrence of Kaneki’s nightly attacks a bit, Hide eventually comes to notice. Or perhaps time has helped as well, by slowly convincing him that he’ll live yet another day.  At any rate, having a goal to work toward keeps Kaneki distracted enough to occasionally forget about Hide’s unavoidable short life, enough to grant him more hours of uninterrupted sleep.

It helps Hide forget, too.

A few months after they began staying under Yoshimura’s roof, they managed to obtain faux identities through the café manager’s many connections. They were allowed to pick their own names before that, and while having the proper documents would no doubt open a lot of doors for them, it was still a pretty depressing process. With each stroke to complete the characters of their chosen names on paper, they’re erasing more and more of who they were, who they _have_ been for the past fifteen years. Once everything has settled, they would no longer be Kaneki Ken and Nagachika Hideyoshi except to each other and the records of a far-off facility. Once everything has settled, they’d have discarded their unknown identities for another, for the future.

Five years have passed since then. They’re twenty years old now, and fortunately still free from the clutches of V and the CCG. From the looks of it, they should probably have given up on them by now. Hide sure hopes so. If he comes this far just to be abducted in some alley and dragged back to the Garden, he might blow a fuse. He doesn’t blame them for being persistent—but to this degree? Even the search for the previous half-ghoul child didn’t last this long. They shouldn’t have the budget and manpower to keep it up for so many years, Hide’s confident. He’s told himself that over and over and over.

But the anxiety of being recognized persists. It takes too little for their lives to be turned upside down once more; a stranger with a good memory who swears they’d seen them somewhere before, a researcher who happens to bump into them on his day off in the 20th Ward, a child from the Garden who’s grown old enough to officially leave the place and join a squad coincidentally based in the town where they’re at. Hide _has_ considered moving even further away to another prefecture once they’ve saved up enough, but with what Kaneki’s planning to do, it doesn’t seem to be possible for at least another five-six years. And if Kaneki isn’t leaving, then neither is he.

So they stay, only going as far as moving out into a modest apartment a bit away from Anteiku. It marks the beginning and also the end of a few things. Now that Kaneki has learnt and seen enough to have a good grasp of how the ghoul and human worlds interact, and now that whatever they do will not likely be traced back into the safe havens of Yoshimura’s café, Kaneki’s decided to take action. To begin earning himself a voice, a name, a reputation. To make the changes he’s longed to make in order to finally repay the debt he thinks he owes to the CCG’s current God of Death.

It’s a treacherous path that will involve the violence they’d so ran away from the first time. Kaneki would have to prove his strength, prove that he’s someone worth listening to. And for that he’d have to abandon the peaceful days they’d so desperately obtained and fight.

Of course, “fight” does not mean just plain brainless brawling—both Hide and Kaneki are pretty confident in their intelligence to fight intellectually as well. There’ll be lots of negotiations with other parties, lots of other ways to compel others to consider their wishes. What Kaneki intends to do isn’t a full-blown revolution, but to simply spark one because they know such drastic changes in society might take decades, even generations. Hide honestly didn’t expect the stubborn Kaneki to take heed of his words, but he seems to have eventually accepted that there’s only so much they can do as who they are, as two runaway hybrid children from the Sunlit Garden.

But they’ll do whatever they can, they best they can.

The first time Hide sets foot into the CCG’s branch office in the 20th Ward, it takes all his focus to keep his knees from buckling with the shivering of his legs. The only base he has to the assumption that there’s no record of him as a Garden escapee is the knowledge that the Sunlit Garden is a top secret project not many should know about. The CCG staff might’ve heard about it through the few graduates assigned to branches here and there, but they shouldn’t know who are the individuals raised in the institution itself. Besides, Hide’s name and appearance has changed over the years. He shouldn’t be that easily recognized anymore.

He really hopes he isn’t that easily recognized.

Information is the one of the strongest weapons one can have, they were reminded by a certain bartender once, and Hide can’t deny that. Once you obtain sufficient facts, there’s an abundance of ways you can use them to your advantage; be it to manipulate, to blackmail, or to withhold and trade. With information comes power, which is why Hide has came to a final decision to saunter back into the midst of the CCG as a part-timer. People tend to let their guard down in their own workplaces, so he figured it’d be a good place to start gathering information from chatty (or drunk, if he could get close enough) employees. They mustn’t rush this. Everything starts from the bottom, they just have to persist in climbing their way up.

In the mean time, Kaneki pursues the coarser route; that is going around finding and meeting ghoul leaders in neighbouring Wards. He’s strong, Hide doesn’t doubt, but he still can’t help but worry every morning they part ways to carry out their own part of the mission they’ve both decided to uptake. Ghouls commonly respect strength, but even a half-ghoul trained in the Garden might not be match for a full-fledged ghoul who’s spent at least a decade or two fighting to earn and maintain the title of a leader when it comes to it. Which is why it’s important for Kaneki to find allies first; peaceful and influential ghoul groups — like the Tsukiyama family—if they could before they begin moving on to ones that are more difficult to handle.

It’s almost ironic, how what Hide always thought as Kaneki’s biggest curse has now turned out to be his biggest asset. No one would bother listening to a random kid waltzing into their territory and suggesting a cooperation to bring coexistence. But Kaneki isn’t simply a “random kid”. He’s a one-eyed ghoul.

And a legend among ghouls says a one-eyed “King” will bring forth a revolution.

Really, it starts sounding as if they’re part of this dramatic young adult novel at some point, much to Hide’s bemusement. Only sadly, it’s all very real, as are the risks they both face daily. That’s one thing neither of them can forget.

“I swear, if you leave before me,” Hide says one night as he squeezes Kaneki’s hands between his own, his gaze darting from the startling strands of white in the other boy’s hair to the knit on his brow before finally settling on those grey, grey eyes, “I’ll never forgive you, Kaneki. I’ll even drag you back from the River myself if I have to!”

The conversation is what followed a sombre recollection of a fight Kaneki barely won earlier in the day, one that gained him all but some grudging support from a gang in the 16th Ward. Being injured to the point where even his regeneration almost couldn’t fix him, Kaneki’s extremely fortunate to not have gone alone this time. Even after eating some human meat from Anteiku, Kaneki still sports bandages along his arms and torso. Hide once thought he’d be prepared to see his best friend in this state, knowing the nature of his efforts towards his goals. He’s never been this mistaken.

“I won’t, Hide,” Kaneki promises gently, though Hide seems to hear a quaver of… _something_ beneath his calm tone. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

Hide heaves a loud, heavy sigh. He releases his hands to trail his fingers across Kaneki’s arm. “Do they still hurt?”

Kaneki shakes his head. “I should be able to take them off next morning.”

“Alright. That’s great,” Hide huffs, letting his hand fall back to his side. He tries to stamp down his agitation, to calm the spike of fear he felt in his heart the second he found out how close to dying Kaneki had been—but it’s frustratingly _difficult_. Can they really keep this up? Can he really get used to letting the most important person of his world willingly expose himself to this kind of  danger each day?

He notices the way Kaneki looks at him then; the underlying tentativeness and concern in his eyes. And then he _remembers_ , and he realizes how unfair he must’ve sounded back there. Kaneki can still somewhat control the circumstances on whether he’ll live to see another day. Hide can’t. The fact that Kaneki might wake up or come home to find Hide’s body cold and motionless at any random day remains unchanged.

There are no signs, and that only makes the tension worse. As morbid as it is, at least they can both brace themselves for the end if Hide has signs of his health deteriorating and such. But there’s none. All they have is a ceaselessly daunting One Day. One Day where Hide would never open his eyes again.

“Ah, by the way, Kaneki,” Hide turns away, moving for his backpack on the floor. They mustn’t dwell on it, mustn’t dwell on it. “I think I found out something pretty interesting about something in the CCG today. Did you know that the RC detector gates are actually programmed to let certain people through?”

They won’t be able to continue otherwise.

**xXx**

They do forge on, regardless of the many hindrances that seem to insist getting in their way.

The alias “Eyepatch” gradually becomes more renowned across the Wards of Tokyo, with Kaneki’s efforts. The mysterious ghoul dressed in black from mask to shoes who appeared out of nowhere and yet still somehow managed to become chummy with the young heir to the Tsukiyama group, the healer ghoul Banjou from the 11th Ward and impossibly, even Shachi from the 6th Ward. Some say he’s a cheat, a liar because there’s no way a single ghoul no one’s heard of until then would be able to pull off the feats he had. Some say he’s just insanely strong and frighteningly intelligent. Some sought to join his cause. Some revered him. Some feared him.

Many saw him as a nuisance who’s only making things worse.

But with his reputation, they knew they would not stand a chance against him in combat. Not fairly, at least. So they tried looking for a weakness, a handful of them eventually managing to discover that Eyepatch might, in fact, have an Achilles heel in the form of a blond young man whom he seems to spend a lot of time with outside his ghoul life. They were often spotted together on the streets, shopping for groceries, and sometimes even just hanging around at a park.

They tried exploiting this, of course. Only there was a tiny issue: the blond guy rarely ever leaves the CCG branch building because he apparently works there as a pathetic part-timer. Sometimes he even _tags along_ with Doves as they hurry out of the building with their Quinque at the ready, obviously heading towards a scene. And for those who _do_ manage to time their assaults right in the end, they never did turn up again until a few days later; their corpses found to be marked with precise, fatal wounds too cleanly inflicted to be done by the natural form of kagune.

After the third time, Hide finally decided to just throw his stained clothes away instead of trying to wash them.

They both work hard, trying to form the bases for the seams that would hopefully one day close the century-long rift between ghouls and humans. Or, at the barest minimum, bases that would one day lead to actions bringing justice to people like themselves; children who were born into the world just to be used and discarded once they’ve reached their due date. While Kaneki does his thing with the ghouls, Hide charms and impresses his way into the heart of the CCG—still, through some miracle Kaneki didn’t know existed, remaining unidentified as a former orphan from the Sunlit Garden despite the incident with the RC detector gates the day he went to submit his application. He’s just recently been promoted from being a simple errand boy to an Investigator Assistant, and he’s been attracting the attention of one of the Commission’s most prominent investigators. With enough luck and time, they could gain another valuable ally.

“Aren’t you worried about your friend?” Banjou asks once as they sat together discussing a plan they were working on to go against the Madams, a group of rich, mostly antagonistic ghouls who have nothing better to do with their money than spend them on gory dismantling shows starring captured humans and fellow ghouls alike. “No offense, though.”

Kaneki shakes his head, catching himself restraining the fond, weary smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the mention of Hide from one of his ghoul comrades. He keeps his gaze trained on the scribbled-covered paper on the low table before him, trying to think as he talks. “Frankly, I think Hide’s got it worse when it comes to the worrying.”

“He must have a lot of faith in you, huh? To watch you go out doing all these crazy things every day and still trust that you’ll come back,” Banjou marvels, absently stroking his creatively shaved beard. This time, Kaneki does face him.

“Didn’t you hear him brag all about it the other day when you guys met? The things he’s doing aren’t all that less crazy,” Kaneki reminds him wryly. At that, Banjou frowns.

“Well, _yeah_ , but still—“

“We get used to it, I suppose,” Kaneki says before he can finish, picking up a pencil to make some amendments to the part of their notes that suddenly caught his eye. With several sharp strokes, he crosses out _“complete elimination”_ and jots down a _“seeding??”_ in the line spacing above it. “We don’t know how much time can we afford to spare being afraid, after all,” he murmurs the last part, almost subconsciously.

Banjou stares thoughtfully at the corner of their paper, saying nothing to that. Their silence stretches on for a few minutes until Kaneki speaks again. “Say, Banjou-san?”

Banjou quirks an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?”

“Hypothetically—and I mean _hypothetically_ ,” Kaneki begins, glancing up at the older man, “who do you think would be best to lead all these if I were to step out?”

_“You’re thinking of stepping out?”_ Banjou’s eyes widen in alarm. Kaneki straightens in his seat, letting his pencil roll from his fingers as he shrugs one shoulder slightly.

“I can’t be doing this forever,” is all he says. He pretends not to see the suspicious look Banjou proceeds to give him. “And it’s just a _“what-if”,_ Banjou-san.”

Banjou takes a moment to mull over his reply. “Unless some guy as hardcore as you shows up soon,” he starts carefully, still eyeing him with suspicion, “there’s no one who can do the job the way you do, Sasaki. It’s because you’ve made it so that it involves collective understanding and effort, if you ask me.”

“I see.” Kaneki smiles, feeling his chest lighten a little. That’s great. Even if he isn’t around, this struggle he’s started will go on. Even without him, they’re going to be okay.

Even without him, the revolution will continue.

“You really aren’t considering quitting this soon, are you?” Banjou persists, this time with a hint of concern in his voice. Kaneki moves to stand, using the short intermission to ensure there’s nothing in his features that would give anything away.

“Don’t worry, I’ll at least finish seeing this mission through first,” he says, letting out a small laugh in an attempt to dispel the sudden graveness in the air when Banjou’s expression remains unchanged. While he claims not to be all that great in the IQ department, Banjou’s incredibly perceptive towards others’ emotions. Even if he himself does not realize it, that’s probably the main reason why his followers chose him as their leader. It’s not everywhere you can find one who truly _cares_ in the world of ghouls.  

“Sasaki—“

“I’m sorry, Banjou-san, but it’s about time for me to check with Tsukiyama-san about our disguises,” Kaneki interrupts before the conversation could drag on. It’s not like he would change his mind anyway; there’s no need for them to waste more time. “Are you coming along?”

 There’s no need for him to waver now.

**xXx**

He blinks awake from a dreamless sleep to the sensation of hair tickling his cheek, a warmth enveloped around his middle and legs.

Hide squints at the blue glow of their nightlight, groaning softly as his eyes sting from the illumination. It takes him a second to realize that Kaneki’s curled around him, holding on to him like how a child would hug a favourite bolster. His breathing is deep, undisturbed. He must be exhausted. Hide sighs, moving to gently brush his hair away from his face. His heart fills with warmth, the way it always does whenever he shares tender moments like this with his best friend. He wiggles a bit in place, trying to find his next comfortable position without waking Kaneki. His free hand comes to a rest over Kaneki’s nape, his fingers curling loosely into soft locks. It’s one of those rare, uneventful nights preserved by the absence of his nightmares and panic attacks. He half wishes he has the energy to stay awake and appreciate the moment longer.

Hide exhales slowly, muttering the words he’s never needed to tell Kaneki face to face as he presses a soft kiss onto the crown of his head. Then he lets his eyelids flit close. 

**xXx**

In four years, Kaneki has achieved much more than he expected, as well as lost more than he’s willing to.

He’d united many factions of ghouls, and fought against even more to establish power. He’d worked together with Hide to figure out what they can do to the CCG’s side, what they can do to be heard by people who see ghouls as nothing but monsters. He’d gotten himself so close to death and endured unimaginable pain so many times that the stress has turned his hair completely white.

But all those are progress. Progress that pushed for more action by others even if he and Hide are not there to pull the strings. And that’s important. That should be enough to clear his debt.

Because it’s also four years later that Kaneki’s not greeted home by a familiar voice for the first time since they started staying in their apartment.

_He must be asleep,_ is the first thought he forces himself to have when he trudges into their lounge and spots Hide seated on his favourite sofa. His eyes are closed, his head tilted slightly to the side while balanced on an upturned palm. Even though Kaneki already knows the truth deep down the moment he enters the room and feels the absence of that certain sense of warmth, the moment he notices how there’s no rise and fall of his chest, Hide really _does_ look like he’s sleeping.

Kaneki crouches down before his best friend, brushing his fingers across his cooling skin. And “Hide,” he whispers very softly, the void in his chest condensing into a single lump in his throat. But that’s _fine_ , he’s expected this. They’ve been expecting this ever since they left the Garden what felt like an eternity ago. He’s been preparing in his own way so that when this day comes, he won’t be overwhelmed by grief, won’t be thrown into an endless pit of despair.

Hide only said he’d be mad if he left _before_ him, didn’t he?

It’s okay now. He’s done everything he could’ve done. They’ve both done everything they could’ve done.

“Sleep well, Hide.” He smiles, reaching for the calmness within as he feels the prick on his lower back. He’s glad; Hide hadn’t shown any signs of health deterioration until the very end. He shifts, resting the side of his head against Hide’s knees. He breathes out slowly, counting with each beat of his heart. Three. Two.

“I’ll see you soon.”

_One._

**xXx**

_“What do you think heaven looks like, Kaneki?” Hide asked, eyes fixed towards the unreachable sky above. Kaneki turned his head carefully, feeling the soft grass brush against the back of his neck. The stalk of a flower between their faces swayed in the breeze, back and forth, back and forth._

_“Probably not like this place,” he said. Then scrunching up his nose, “though, now that I think of it, it_ might _look somewhat like this place.”_

_Hide shifted to give him one of his obnoxious looks. “Kaneki, I have no idea what you’re saying again.”_

_“What I mean is,” Kaneki cleared his throat, hoping the slight burn in his cheeks wasn’t getting obvious. “It might look like this garden, but not the Garden as a whole. Just a big, endless garden.”_

_“That sounds pretty boring,” Hide comments, reaching to pluck the flower from the ground and twisting it between his fingers. Kaneki watched the white petals spin with idle fascination; clockwise, counter-clockwise, then clockwise again._

_“Do you want to go to heaven, Hide?” he then asked, shifting his gaze back to Hide’s face. Hide purses his lips and hums in thought._

_“I probably won’t be able to make it, with all those fussy requirements and all,” he admitted. He glanced away, scratching his cheek in an almost sheepish manner. “Besides, I don’t want to go anywhere without you there.”_

_Fortunately for him, Kaneki didn’t find his words worth teasing. “Because you’ll be lonely without me?” he asked, genuinely curious. It took a moment before Hide could meet his eyes again._

_“Yeah,” he said, followed by a sharp intake of breath before his voice grows firmer. “Definitely.”_

_“Then I’ll stay by you, wherever you go,” Kaneki vowed, offering his little finger. “Pinky promise.”_

_“Oh, come on, Kaneki! Aren’t we getting a little too old for that? We’re turning seven next year!” Hide protested with a laugh. He released his flower anyway, curling the fingers of his outstretched hand except the last. When he spoke, his voice was softer, fonder. “But thank you. I’ll never leave you as well, I swear on that.”_

_Kaneki nodded without a single shred of doubt that he would._

_And they hooked their fingers together._

**Author's Note:**

> //whispers there are also some copies of my [HideKane mini anthology "Camellia"](http://potatopierrot.storenvy.com/products/18271175-tokyo-ghoul-hidekane-mini-anthology-camellia) left for grabs, so you can check it out if you're interested _(:D


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